


how to make two lovers of friends

by petals



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Inspired by a Movie, M/M, Mentions of Nessie and Gryles, Sexual Content, Side Lilo - Freeform, Slow Build, Slow Burn, set in New York
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2015-11-05
Packaged: 2018-04-27 10:15:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5044456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/petals/pseuds/petals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time they meet, they hate each other. Or, Harry hates Niall.<br/>The second time they meet, Niall doesn't remember Harry. He says he did.<br/>The third time they meet, they become friends. They're friends for a long time. And then they're not. And then they fall in love. </p><p>Or a When Harry Met Sally au</p>
            </blockquote>





	how to make two lovers of friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [roofpizza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/roofpizza/gifts).



> Thank you to my lovely beta J, who has all the faith in the world in me. I don't know what I'd do without you. You're my fandom angel. 
> 
> It's been ages since I've written Narry, so I hope you all enjoy this <3

Harry taps his fingers against the steering wheel impatiently, spying through the side mirror on his car at the couple kissing next to it. They were supposed to leave ten minutes ago. They’re already ten minutes behind schedule and Harry didn’t prepare for delays when leaving campus. He prepared for delays when it came to the actual travel portion, like if they hit construction in the middle of Indiana or Ohio or something. He didn’t prepare for anyone to make out on the side of his car before he’s actually been able to put his foot on the gas pedal. Not like they should be leaning against the car while they’re kissing, that’d be—well, he doesn’t want to imagine something like that.

This is Harry’s first time meeting Niall. He knows Daisy, the girl with her tongue in Niall’s mouth. She’s the one who arranged for them to travel together, since they’re both on their way to New York and she thought, seeing as she’s Harry’s friend and Niall’s…whatever, that this would be a great idea. She had raved about Niall for weeks while trying to convince Harry that this was a good idea. But honestly, Harry is failing to see what’s so great about the other boy.

Harry clears his throat, quickly glancing over his shoulder to see if it’s doing anything. It’s not. He shifts around, hanging out of the window and tries it again, this time louder.

Daisy pulls away first, smiling at Harry sheepishly as Niall continues to press kisses along her neck. Harry grimaces, rolling his eyes before he pops his head back in the window. He can hear Daisy giggling, right before she tells Niall that it’s time for him to go. He only looks in the side mirror once before he gives them their privacy.

It takes several minutes but then finally Daisy’s peeking her head in his window, smacking a kiss to his cheek. “You both be safe, alright?” She looks to Harry first and then Niall, who is climbing into the passenger seat, his bags already thrown in Harry’s trunk.

“Of course,” Harry tells her, smiling at her. He feels a pang in his chest at knowing he’s not going to see her again, at least not in the foreseeable future. “I’ll call you when we get there, let you know we made it alive.”

“That’d be lovely, Haz,” she says, sighing as he wraps her fingers around his wrist, a silent goodbye. She nods once more before she disappears.

Harry doesn’t linger on their goodbye, just puts the car into gear and gently presses down on the gas pedal. Finally.

“Are you sure that you have everything?” Harry asks, eyes firmly planted on the road. Everyone seems to be leaving school at the same time, campus filled with more people than usual as parents come to help their kids move out. Harry’s family didn’t come; he didn’t want them to. He said bye to them at his graduation ceremony and that was that. He’s going to New York on his own, or well, he’s going with Niall. But that’s only because Niall was going as well and didn’t have a car. Which is fine, Harry is happy to help him out.

“No, but even if I forgot something I’m sure we’ll be able to turn back around.”

“No. We won’t,” Harry tells him. “We have a very strict schedule that we have to adhere to.”

“It’s called a joke,” Niall says, laughing. Harry can see him out of the corner of his eye shifting around, digging through Harry’s glove box and then the center console, checking for something, Harry’s not sure what. “Did you not pack water or snacks for this trip? Am I going to starve?”

“They’re in the back,” Harry says, chancing a glance in the other boy’s direction. It’s the first time he’s really gotten a good look at him, with his face not mashed together with Daisy’s. He’s alright. Cute, actually, really cute. His hair is blond, fake blond, and he’s dressed like every other boy that Harry avoided, teal shorts with a white tank and baseball cap on his head. He was in a fraternity, obviously. Harry rolls his eyes at the predictability of it. “Also, I realize that this is the first time we’re actually meeting each other, so I’m Harry. I know you know that but like, just trying to be polite.”

“Yeah, Daisy told me. I’m Niall, as you know,” he says, settling back down in his seat. He’s sitting sideways, back pressed against the door and not wearing a seat belt as he tosses grapes in his mouth.

They’re not that far off campus so Harry swerves to the side, pulling over and hitting the brakes. “Put your seat belt on.”

“What?”

“Put it on,” Harry says, thumb tapping against the wheel. “I’m not going to feel comfortable driving while knowing that you’re willingly putting your life at risk. Put it on.”

“Alright,” Niall mutters, reaching behind him and clicking the belt in place. He’s still not sitting facing forward – which is totally dangerous – but Harry’s won part of the battle so he’s willing to let it slide. “Happy now?”

“Yes,” Harry tells him, getting back on the road. “I’ve made a schedule for us. I found a place we can stop at to eat, so that we can get energized and be ready to go. I figure I can drive halfway there and then you can drive the rest. Then after we eat we’ll switch again and then once more before arriving in New York.”

“Yeah, sounds great. Why don’t you tell me about your life?”

“My life?”

“Yeah, you know. Your life story, starting at the very beginning, as far back as you can remember. Then we’ll tap into your hopes and dreams, I’m sure we’ll have time.”

“I don’t understand. You want to know my life story?”

Niall shrugs. “Why not? We’re going to be trapped in this car together for hours, might as well make sure we don’t run out of things to say. So don’t spare any details. Tell me everything,” Niall says. “You want a grape?”

It’s not the worst idea that Harry’s ever heard; it’s actually pretty smart. Harry wasn’t sure how they were going to fill in the awkward silences but maybe now he won’t have to worry. He takes a grape from Niall, popping it into his mouth as he thinks about where he should start.

“I’m going to New York for journalism,” Harry tells him. It’s the first thought he had, okay. It’s hard to remember your past when you’re put on the spot like this. “I want to be a writer. A reporter, actually. But that’s the same thing, really, it’s just the titles that are different, I suppose.”

“Uh huh,” Niall mumbles. “Why would you want to do that?”

“What’s wrong with writing?”

“Nothing is the matter with it. I’m going to be a writer myself.”

“You are? Doing what?”

“The only thing that matters,” Niall says proudly, grinning at Harry. “I’m going to write about sports. Ultimately I’d like to be a sports announcer, I think that’d be fucking sick, but right now I’m going to write sports.”

“Sports?”

“Yeah, I think I said it like, six times. Is your hearing alright, man?”

“My hearing is fine, thank you,” Harry mutters through gritted teeth, rolling his eyes. “I’m just confused on how you actually believe that’s the most important thing there is to write about.”

“Because I’ve got a brain and I know what I’m talking about,” Niall retorts. “And anyway, what are you going to report about? What exactly do you think is going to be so much better than writing about sports? What gives you that stick up your ass that makes you all judgey?”

Harry flips his hair out of his eyes, sitting up a little straighter as he proudly says, “I’m going to be the next Diane Sawyer. I’m going to interview people around the world, people that the public care about.”

“Uh huh,” mumbles Niall, chewing thoughtfully on a grape. He’s quiet for a couple seconds and Harry chances a look at him, his eyebrows knitting together when he sees Niall looking at him strangely. “And what about your life is so sad that you’d want to do that?”

“Excuse me? What makes you think that my life is sad?”

Niall shrugs. “I don’t know. You want to spend your life talking about how great other people and their lives are. Sounds a bit sad.”

“That’s not why I’m doing this,” Harry tells him, grip tightening on the steering wheel.

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I—No. Okay. Don’t you think that it’s sad that you’re going to be off writing about sports instead of playing them? Talk about a sad excuse for a life.”

“No, because I can admit that I’m shit at them. Not shit entirely but shit enough that I couldn’t go professional,” Niall says. “Those who can’t do, teach. I don’t want to teach, so I’m writing. It’s simple.”

“People write because they love it.”

“I love sports. I love sports so I’m writing about them.”

“And I love people so…yeah,” Harry mumbles, biting down on his bottom lip. He had a point but he thinks he might have lost it. All he knows is that his brain is jumbled up and he wants to throw one of the grapes at Niall’s head.

“Eat a grape, Harry. You’re getting cranky. I skipped lunch to spend time with Daisy, I should know what hunger can do to a man,” Niall says, holding the bundle of grapes towards Harry. Harry sighs and tears some off, tossing one in his mouth. Maybe Niall’s right. Maybe they’re just hungry. Yeah, that has to be it. Things will get better once they eat these. 

>>>>

It’s hours later and grapes have done nothing to help them. Not one single thing. Niall, as it turns out, is an idiot. He has no idea what he’s talking about and Harry, as it turns out, would quite like to fight him. He doesn’t though, because Niall would probably end up winning and then he’d get embarrassed but honestly.

“No one in their right mind thinks that you’re right,” Harry says, folding his arms over his chest and glaring out the window. He’s not even going to give Niall the pleasure of seeing his face right now. “How many times have you even watched the movie?”

“Once,” Niall says. “But that was enough for me to know that Keira Knightley’s character should have gone with the best friend instead of her tired husband. Honestly, what did her husband do that was so right?”

“Love her,” Harry shouts, placing his hand over his mouth when he realizes what he’s done.

“Are you really going to yell at me about this?” Niall asks, eyes narrowing as he turns into the parking lot of a little diner. It’s not the one that Harry found online, apparently that one doesn’t exist, go figure. But this is fine, they found it via road signs and if it has a road sign then it has to be good.

“I didn’t mean to yell but honestly, Niall, you can’t watch a movie once and then go about throwing false accusations about it. Especially when it’s about Love Actually.”

“You like it or something?”

“Yes, actually. It’s one of my favorite movies. I always watch it around Christmas.”

“So then you should know that Keira should have chosen her husband’s best friend. If you’ve seen it as much as you’re claiming that you have.”

“No. The beauty of their story is that he loves so much he’s willing to put his feelings aside and not do anything about them because he loves her so much he only wants her to be happy.”

“What would you have done?” Niall says, turning the car off and turning to look at Harry. “Would you have stayed with your boring husband who is too lazy to get up and open the door himself or would you have gone with the man who declared his love for you in a very romantic way?”

“Well, obviously if I’m married then I’ve made my decision, haven’t I?”

“Alright, how about this. What if the man with the cards is going to give you the best sex of your life, while the husband turns out to be just as boring as I suspect he is and your marriage is dull and—lifeless. Would you rather have the best sex of your life or stay in your lifeless marriage?”

Harry scoffs, shaking his head. He cannot believe that they’re having this argument. Two grown men in their twenties arguing about a movie that Niall is completely and utterly wrong about. He can’t believe it.

“I stand by what I said. I would stay with my husband.”

“Huh,” Niall mumbles, nodding. Harry frowns at him, watching as Niall undoes his seatbelt and starts getting out of the car. “I get it.”

“Get what?” Harry asks, scrambling after him. “What do you get?”

“Nothing.” Niall shakes his head, waving Harry off. “Forget about it.”

“No, I’m not going to forget about it,” Harry says, chasing after Niall. He grabs his arm and spins him around, stopping him from going inside the diner. “What were you going to say? What do you get?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Well, I mean. It’s just obvious that you’ve never had great sex yet,” Niall says. He shrugs out of Harry’s grasp and enters the diner, leaving Harry gaping outside.

That is the furthest thing from the truth. Harry has had sex. He has. And really, how could Niall possibly make that assumption based on Harry’s movie preferences. No. Based on solid facts. Keira was supposed to stay with her husband. The movie was showing different kinds of love not love that consistently ends in happily ever after. Harry has no idea what that’s supposed to do with sex.

Harry yanks the door of the diner open, scowling as he glances around. Niall’s already sat at a table, hat off and sitting on his knee. He’s browsing through a menu and Harry glares as he stalks towards him, dropping down in the seat across from him with a huff.

“Yes I have,” Harry tells him, unfolding the napkin with more force than necessary and slamming it down on his lap before he grabs his menu.

“No you haven’t,” Niall replies, eyes never leaving the menu.

“I’ve had plenty of great sex, Niall. Just because you weren’t there to witness it doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.”

“So who was it with?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“If you don’t know their name then obviously it wasn’t that great. And the look on your face tells me that you’re trying to remember a time when you had great sex, which means I was right. You’ve never had great sex and that’s why you’d choose the husband.”

“No, that’s not it at all,” Harry says, trying to stare at his menu like this conversation means nothing to him. He can be cool and relaxed like Niall, he can. “I’m just trying to decide if I even want to tell you.”

“You do.”

“His name was Nelson and it was at a frat party.”

“You didn’t have great sex with anyone named Nelson,” Niall laughs, like Harry actually cracked a joke at the table. “There’s no possible way that you had any kind of time with someone named Nelson. The name doesn’t sound good when you say it. Oh give it to me, Nelson. That sounds like shit. Sounds like shit because it was shit sex with Nelson.”

Harry rolls his eyes, ready to spit out a remark when their waitress arrives. Niall smiles at her like he’s sweet and like he hasn’t been tormenting Harry since they left Chicago.

Niall orders a roast beef sandwich with chili and fries and a chocolate shake. The waitress smiles at him as she writes it down, calling him sweetheart like he deserves the nickname.

“And you?”

“The chef’s salad. How fresh is the lettuce? Is it from today, just grabbed at the store? Do you know if it has any of that…you know yucky stuff on it that they spray on it to kill the bugs and then it gets in our system and destroys us?”

“Uh…”

“And what about the dressing? Does it come fat free? I read an article about how condiments and stuff like that can really sabotage your daily calorie intake. Did you know that?” Harry asks. The waitress stares at him, blinking slowly. “Right. Nevermind. I’ll just have the breakfast platter. With no butter on my pancakes and please make sure the eggs are done over medium and not over easy, I don’t want to risk getting sick. And the sausage, can you make it links instead of patties? And I’ll take a water.” Harry smiles at the waitress, passing her his menu as he finishes with a huff.

“What was that?” Niall asks once the waitress has walked away. Harry looks at him, head cocked.

“What was what?”

“Nothing,” mumbles Niall, running his fingers through his hair as he looks at Harry. “You know, you’re pretty cute. Did you know that? That you’re cute?”

“Thank you, I suppose.” Harry looks away from Niall because he’s not going to blush over some stupid compliment. It’s just some lame line that Niall probably uses on everyone, telling them that they’re cute after he insults them, like that’ll make up for all the absurdly annoying things he’s said all day.

“No, I mean it. You’re cute. Daisy said that you were nice but she didn’t mention that you were cute.”

“Daisy’s not attracted to me, so why would she mention that I was cute? And besides, you’re dating her, so why would she think to tell you that anyone was attractive?”

“I don’t know,” Niall says, shrugging. “But now that you know I think you’re cute, and I know you think I’m cute.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Your cheeks got pink,” Niall says without missing a beat. “Anyway, now that we have that all settled, we should get a hotel room.”

“What? No. Niall, I told you earlier that we have a schedule. We don’t have time to sleep. If you want to sleep then you’ll have to do it in the car. I’m not stopping to sleep.”

“Then we won’t sleep.”

Harry stares at Niall, mouth open as the waitress drops their drinks off. She smiles at Niall as she sets the cups down, ignoring Harry completely. Whatever, he’s not worried about that. “Niall, Daisy is my friend.”

“And?” Niall asks, pulling his straw out of his milkshake so can suck some of the thicker bits out of it, staring at Harry in confusion, like he’s not making an extremely valid point right now.

“And you can’t just try to sleep with me when you’re dating my friend,” Harry explains, nodding firmly. “Besides, we’re just friends anyway, you and I.”

Niall looks at him; eyes squinted as he shakes his head. “No, that’s not possible. We can never be friends.”

“What? What are you talking about? Why not?”

“Because it’s physically impossible for two people to be friends with each other when they’re this attracted to each other. It’s just not possible. The sex part will always ruin it. Always.”

“That’s not true,” Harry scoffs, rolling his eyes. Honestly, where does Niall get this stuff? The guy is…well. Whatever. “I have plenty of friends that I find attractive.”

“But how many are you attracted to in the way that you’re attracted to me?”

“I’m not attracted to you.”

Niall rolls his eyes, plopping his straw back in his shake. “Yeah, I’ll pretend to believe that,” he mutters under his breath. “Anyway. Finding them attractive and being attracted to them isn’t the same thing. If it were then you wouldn’t be able to have a friendship with them because you’d secretly be spending all of your time together wishing you were having sex. And that’s why two people who are attracted to each other can’t be friends. Sex. Sex ruins it.”

“What if you’re attracted to them but they’re attracted to you?”

“It doesn’t matter. You already want to have sex with them, even if you haven’t realized it yet.”

Harry nods, pretending to understand Niall’s flawed logic. “So you’re saying that we can never be friends? Not ever?”

“Not ever,” Niall confirms. He shrugs when Harry looks at him, a frown on his face. He’s not sure he likes the sound of that, not being friends with the only person that he’s going to know in New York. Millions of people and the one person he could have had is casting him off to the side, even if he is annoying.

>>>>

New York looks like a dream when they finally arrive, early the next morning when most of the city is still sleeping. Well, not sleeping entirely, since there are far too many cars outside, honking and being obnoxious.

It feels like it takes longer to get through the city than it did to drive across states. It’s not surprising, Harry has heard horror stories about New York traffic but the city is gorgeous, everything he dreamed it would be.

Niall doesn’t appear as impressed, fiddling around with the radio and asking Harry what’s taking so long instead of admiring the place that they’re both going to be calling home for the rest of their lives. Or well, hopefully. That’s the plan, anyway. Harry’s plan, he’s not sure where Niall’s going to be and he doesn’t care. They’re not going to be friends, after all.

“You can drop me off over there,” Niall says, pointing to a corner where there aren’t many cars with just enough space for Harry to squeeze his car into to help him unload some of his bags.

“Are you sure? Is this near where you’re supposed to be living? I can take you anywhere.”

“Then take me right there,” Niall says again, pointing at the same spot. Harry nods and does as he’s told, narrowly avoiding getting hit by a taxi as he parks his car.

It doesn’t take long to get Niall’s bags unloaded, the other boy packing far lighter than Harry did. It makes sense, since most of their stuff was left behind at the dorms. A fresh start in every sense of the word, new everything. They’re free to start over, to reinvent themselves, if they want to. And that’s so exciting to Harry but apparently not to Niall, who is looking around like he’s been here a thousand times.

“Guess this is it,” Niall says, shoving his hat on his head.

“Guess it is,” Harry says, holding his hand out for Niall to shake. “Have a good life. I hope New York treats you well.”

Niall looks at his hand and then shrugs, gripping onto Harry’s hand and shaking it firmly. “See you around,” he says, smiling as he pulls away. He looks at Harry for just a second longer before he turns to go, bouncing along.

Harry stares after him for a moment before he breathes out, shaking his head. “Good riddance on that one,” he mumbles, scrambling to get back into his car.

>>>> FIVE YEARS LATER >>>>

The airport is crowded around them as Harry kisses Nick, his arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly before he has to say goodbye. It’s going to be a while before he sees him again, before Nick can get some time off and come to New York to see him. Harry hates Boston for this reason, because the city gets to keep Nick while he’s stuck in New York.

Harry sighs into the kiss, pulling Nick closer, holding onto him a little bit tighter as he thinks about it, thinks about how this is goodbye. Not forever, just for a little while. Not like that’s going to make it even better.

“There are people around, Haz,” Nick mumbles, pulling away from the kiss.

“Don’t care,” Harry whines, kissing Nick again. Nick laughs, nipping at his bottom lip before he kisses him back. Harry grins into it, content to have his way.

“Grimmy,” says a voice from next to them and Harry frowns, pulling away from Nick. His jaw almost hits the floor when he sees the source of the voice. He remembers him, the little shit that he had to drive from Chicago with after college, the one who made his trip miserable.

“Niall,” Nick shouts in excitement, pulling away from Harry to hug the other boy. Harry frowns at the exchange, he wasn’t aware that they knew each other. Not even remotely sure that he knew that. Nick never mentioned him. “How are you?”

“I’m great, yeah. I was sitting over there and I thought it was you so I figured I’d come over and check. How are you?”

“I’m wonderful, actually,” Nick says, slipping an arm around Harry’s waist. “Are you still writing for the—the um. Shit, I forgot. What was it?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not writing for them anymore. I changed places. I actually just got a job at one of the television stations, doing some of those reports from outside of the newsroom. It’s not every week, so I’m still doing some freelance work. But yeah. What about you?”

“Same as before, still at the radio station,” Nick says, still smiling like he’s actually happy to see Niall. “Oh god, sorry. Niall, this is Harry. Niall and I used to live together, before I moved down here.”

Harry smiles at Niall quickly before he pushes his fingers through his hair, pulling the strands in front of his face, trying to hide himself. Niall smiles at him, his head cocked to the side but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t show any signs of remembering Niall. Harry feels relieved almost grateful.

“Right, I should get going. My plane is supposed to be leaving soon, but it was nice running into you again,” Niall says and Nick nods.

“Yeah, man. It’s been a long time. Hope to see you again,” Nick says. Niall smiles at them and then waves, adjusting his bag over his shoulder before he rushes off, moving quickly.

Harry watches him go, staring at him until Niall’s nothing but a little speck, a body lost in the crowd. He breathes out, leaning against Nick, resting his head on his shoulder.

“Thank god he’s gone,” Harry mumbles, turning his head to the side so that he can look at Nick out of the corner of his eye. “We drove to New York together after college, it was awful. He’s the worst, honestly. I can’t believe you lived with him.”

“Niall? He’s great.”

“No. He’s horrible. Atrocious. Absolutely horrid.”

Nick laughs, running his fingers through Harry’s hair. “What makes him so horrible?” Nick asks, amusement in his tone.

“He’s very argumentative, he doesn’t know quality movies when he sees them, and he hit on me,” Harry declares, lifting his head off Nick’s shoulder to look at him. He glares when he sees Nick smirking at him, green eyes reduced to slits as he tries to intimidate the other boy. “I’m being serious. He hit on me and I said no, obviously, because he was dating a friend of mine. Well, I’m not sure if they were dating but he had her pressed against the side of my car just hours before that. I said I wouldn’t do that to—To—I forgot her name.”

“And how did he take that, love?”

“He went on a rant about how we could never be friends because we’re attracted to each other and so we’ll always want to have sex together, something like that,” Harry mumbles, waving his hand around. “Honestly it was ridiculous. I don’t know what he was talking about.”

“Because you’re attracted to each other?” Nick asks, eyebrow raised.

“No, that’s just what he thinks. But it was all a load of shit anyway, he doesn’t know a thing,” Harry says and then he gasps. “Daisy. That was her name.”

“Hmm,” Nick hums, tucking a curl behind Harry’s ear. “Should I be worried about this flight then? If you’re both going back to New York then you’ll be together, and who knows, maybe he’ll make another pass at you.”

“No, don’t worry about that,” Harry tells him, throwing his arms around Nick’s neck once more. “I’m sure we won’t even be sat by each other. It’s a big plane. And New York is a very big city.”

“That it is.”

“You know I have to leave soon,” Harry says, finished talking about Niall…whatever his last name is. “Are you going to miss me?”

“Terribly,” Nick tells him, arms tightening around Harry’s waist. “Always miss the man I love when he’s away.”

“The man you love?” Harry asks, grinning. Nick smiles at him and pulls him in for another kiss.

>>>>

Apparently Harry has made the airplane gods very, very angry, judging by the fact that his seat is directly next to Niall’s. He glances around, trying to see if there’s anyone who would be willing to trade him an aisle seat next to a blond. He could probably sell it well enough, if he wanted to. Unfortunately everyone else is settled into their seats, looking comfortable and not like they’d like to switch at all.

Harry shoves his bag into the overhead compartment quickly, snatching his book out of it before he zips it shut and then hurries and sits. He opens his book and shoves his nose inside of it. Maybe if he hides his face, if he reads and minds his own business then Niall won’t realize he’s here.

“You went to University of Chicago, didn’t you?”

Harry closes his eyes, face still hidden by the book as he hears Niall’s voice. There’s not a chance that Niall is talking to anyone besides Harry, which is unfortunate because he really thought that his magazine trick would work.

“Yeah, I did,” Harry says, not bothering to look at the other boy.

“Ah, thought so,” Niall mumbles. “Did you look this good in school?”

That makes Harry lower the magazine, blinking at Niall stupidly. Niall is smiling at him, waiting patiently for an answer. “No, probably not,” Harry mumbles in response. His hair used to be shorter, his face a little chubbier, he supposes. He didn’t look awful but he’s definitely gotten better with age, like a fine wine.

“I thought so,” Niall says, rubbing at his chin. “I’d remember someone if they looked that good, wouldn’t I?”

“The fact you don’t remember me says a lot, maybe we should keep it that way,” Harry suggests, trying not to be rude but also trying not to sound too hopeful.

“Nonsense…um, Harry, wasn’t it?” Harry nods. “Right, so like, did we—you know?” He makes a gesture with his hand that Harry supposes means ‘had sex’ and he can’t help the snort that escapes his mouth.

“No, we didn’t,” Harry says, closing his book and setting it down on his lap. Obviously he’s not going to be able to get much reading done. “For your information, we drove from Chicago to New York together after graduation.”

“Oh right, you were good friends with that girl…”

“Daisy,” Harry finishes for him because there’s no way that Niall would remember Daisy’s name if he can’t remember the one person who brought him to New York.

Overhead the captain announces that they’ll be taking off shortly. Next to him Niall says, “Daisy, right.”

“I can’t believe you forgot her name, weren’t you together for like, months or something?”

“I remember her, Daisy Rowe, she—“

“Lowe. Daisy Lowe.”

“Right, yeah. That’s what I said. I remember her, she was gorgeous and sweet and had a beautiful smile. You two were best friends, what happened to her? How’s she doing?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits, adjusting the tightness on his seatbelt as he ignores Niall’s gaze. He rolls his eyes when he sees that Niall’s not wearing his, some things never change, he supposes. “Put your safety belt on, please.”

Niall waves him off but does as he’s told, snapping the belt into place. Harry nods because good, one less thing to worry about on this flight. “That’s sad you’re not friends anymore. You were such good friends, best friends. I remember now that’s why you and I didn’t work out, because you were both so close.”

“Me? She was your girlfriend. Isn’t it sadder that you don’t remember her?”

“No, not really,” Niall says, shrugging. “You were the one who sacrificed everything for her and was it worth it? Was it worth rejecting me now that you’re no longer friends? At least I knew we were doomed.”

“First of all, there was never anything going on between us. You propositioned me and then I said no. That’s it. That’s all that happened.”

Niall stares at him, blue eyes narrowed as he nods his head, thinking about it for a moment. “I guess you’re right. I don’t remember it happening in exactly that way but sure. It happened like that,” Niall says. “And anyway, how is becoming the next Katie Couric?”

“Diane Sawyer.”

“That’s exactly what I just said,” Niall sighs, shaking his head as he snaps the window shade down. “I don’t like that up during take off, it freaks me out. Anyway, how are you, Diane Sawyer?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” Harry mumbles. “And my career is fine too, if that’s what you were asking. I’m obviously not Diane Sawyer yet but I’m writing for one of the newspapers and occasionally work in a newsroom. Although, I hear you’re doing the same.”

“And you’re dating Nick.”

“I am, yes.”

“Interesting,” Niall mumbles, nodding. He looks away from Harry, at the window that he’s just shut, his grip tightening slightly as the plane begins to take off. Harry stares back at him because what exactly is so interesting about his choice in boyfriend? And what makes that any of Niall’s business, besides the fact that he apparently knows Nick, which Harry doesn’t believe for a second. “And how long have you been together?”

Niall blinks at him, his face flushed. Harry thinks he might be scared of flying, he’s not sure but it seems that way, if anything about Niall’s body language is accurate.

“A few months. I’m surprised you don’t know that since you seem to know Nick so well.”

“Knew Nick so well. I don’t know him anymore,” Niall says. “And besides, I only knew him as well as you know anyone that you live with. It was ages ago, probably at least three years. Two and a half, actually because I remember he moved out around the holidays.”

“He must have lived with you before he lived with Aimee, right before he moved to Boston.”

“Possibly. I didn’t really keep up with his life,” Niall says. “But it’s interesting that you’d date my old roommate, like you’re subconsciously looking for a connection to me or something.”

“I’m not looking for anything.”

“Me either,” Niall says, pushing up the window shade now that they’re in the air. He doesn’t look out it, just opens it and forgets that it’s there, his gaze solely on Harry. “I’m getting married.”

“You are?”

“Yeah, me. I figured it was time to settle down. Being single just isn’t for me anymore.”

“Well, that’s—Good. Good for you,” Harry tells him, smiling and trying his best to mean it. The Niall he knew wouldn’t get engaged, he’s almost positive about it. There’s no way the boy who was dating his friend and asked him to have sex at the same time would settle down and plan a future with someone. It’s just not possible. “What’s her name?”

 _“His_ name is Bressie,” Niall says. “He’s a musician. Much more attractive than you are.”

“Is there nothing there?” Harry says, motioning towards Niall’s head. “Is there nothing up there to stop these things from coming out of your mouth or do you just let it all out?”

“What are you talking about?” Niall asks, frowning in confusion. Harry sighs and shakes his head, waving it off. “But anyway, he’s really great. Been together a while. It’s just time. You know when it’s time? I don’t know, it got old trying to think of excuses for why I need to go home, it got old.”

“Go home? What does that mean?”

“You know, after sex. It was getting harder to think of reasons for why I had to get home. I mean, you don’t have much time, maybe thirty seconds or so before you’d got to roll out of their grasp and blurt out your excuse.” 

“That is awful. That’s really what you think about after sex?”

“That’s what I used to think about after sex. Bressie and I are getting married, I don’t have to think about that stuff anymore.”

“That’s still awful.”

“Let me guess,” Niall says, looking Harry up and down. “You’re one of those people that likes to be held all night, aren’t you? No. Don’t answer that, I already know you are.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Harry grumbles, opening his book and tearing his eyes away from Niall. He doesn’t. Niall doesn’t know a thing about him. One rejected one nightstand and one car ride doesn’t give Niall any sort of insight to him.

>>>>

Getting away from Niall isn’t as easy as it sounds. He’s there while Harry’s on the plane, there while he’s trying to get off, and then he’s there when he’s collecting his bag, tapping his foot on the ground and chewing on his fingernails, waiting for his luggage. Harry tries to avoid looking at him, tries to focus on anything and everything else.

“Hey.”

Harry closes his eyes and breathes out. “Yes?”

“Do you want to get dinner later? To catch up.”

“I have a boyfriend, Niall,” Harry reminds him. Five years later and he’s still dealing with this. They talked about their relationships on the plane, how could Niall have already forgotten about this? “Is your memory impaired?”

“Right. Yeah, I know. I meant as friends,” Niall clarifies, laughing at Harry like he’s the one out of touch. “Just two friends – two old friends – getting dinner together after five long years apart. Or is your memory too impaired to remember that we spent a lovely evening together?”

Harry snorts. His memory is definitely not impaired, he remembers the evening fully, he doesn’t, however, remember the bits about it being lovely. He must have missed that part. Maybe it was when he took a nap in Pennsylvania. “My memory is perfect, actually. And I thought you said that we couldn’t be friends?”

“I never said that,” Niall says, shaking his head.

“You did, actually. You said two people who are attracted to each other can’t be friends because the sex will ruin it.”

“Oh right, I said that. I did, yeah.”

“See? So it looks like we can’t be friends,” Harry mutters, sighing sadly. “Unfortunately, of course.”

“No, that was before the amendment.”

“What amendment?”

“The one that says two people that are attracted to each other are allowed to be friends as long as they’re both in relationships,” Niall says, shrugging. “It’s the only way that it’ll work. And since we are, then we can be friends.”

“And how exactly—“

“No, you’re right. That doesn’t work either, does it? We’d still be attracted to each other, wouldn’t we? And because of that the sex thing will still be there. And not to mention, our boyfriends would both be wondering why we need to be friends with someone that we’re attracted to, is it because we’re secretly wishing that we’ll have sex – which we probably are, to be honest – and that’ll drive them crazy,” Niall sighs, running his fingers through his blond hair. “So I guess you’re right, we can’t be friends.”

Harry stares at Niall, his mouth hung open. He shakes his head and looks away, breathing out a sigh of relief at the sight of his bag. Thank god, he’s not sure how much longer he can tolerate this.

“Niall, it was great to see you again but—I’ll see you around,” Harry says, fingers crossed behind his back because he won’t see him around. He just won’t.

Niall frowns for a second before he bounces back, opening his mouth to say something. Harry doesn’t stay long enough to find out what, instead he waves and rushes off, grabbing his bag and rushing out of the airport to catch a cab before Niall can jump inside of it and continue this conversation.

>>>> FIVE YEARS LATER >>>>

Harry sighs at the look on Liam’s face. He’s a mix between sad and disappointed and angry, torn on how he should be reacting. Harry shrugs at him and grabs his water, wrapping his lips around the straw and drinking. He pretends that Liam’s gaze isn’t setting his skin on fire, making him anxious.

“How long?” Liam breathes out, eyes impossibly wide. “How long has it been?”

“A week,” Harry tells him, reciting it just like he did in the mirror earlier, shoulders pulled back and head held up high, unbothered and unconcerned.

“A week, oh, Harry,” Liam cries, scooting his chair closer and wrapping his hand around Harry’s arm. He’s frowning now, his brows pulled together. Liam has definitely settled on sadness, his brown eyes making Harry feel like he’s the one going through the break up. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“There was nothing to tell, it was just over. I don't know,” Harry says, shrugging. “It was a long time coming, honestly. We had been growing apart, spending more and more time apart and finally we admitted it to each other.”

“But Harry, you were together for so long.”

“Yes, and now we’re not,” Harry says, swallowing thickly. He really is okay. Yeah, him and Nick had been together for ages and he thought they were going to get married and spend forever together. But…things happen. Things happen and people want different things. He’s not going to hold it against Nick. He spent so long loving him that it would be ridiculous.

“Well, okay. That’s not a problem,” Liam mumbles, running his fingers through his hair and looking around like he’s trying to find something. “Okay. We can figure this out; we can find a way to win him back. Um, right. Do you have any ideas?”

“No, Liam. I’m not trying to win him back. I want to spend some time to myself, figure myself out and all that.”

“But you can’t wait too long,” Liam says. “You’re getting older and people our age should be settled down properly.”

“That’s not true, we still have plenty of time to get engaged. I’m twenty-eight not ninety-nine.”

“That’s what you say now, but the next thing you know, you’re ninety-nine and wishing you had fought harder for Nick Grimshaw.”

“He doesn’t want to get married, Liam. He said that. He said that marriage isn’t in his plans, so even if I stayed with him, I wouldn’t get married.”

“Wouldn’t get married…why would you—who doesn’t want to get married?” Liam asks, frowning in confusion.

“Nick Grimshaw doesn’t,” Harry says and Liam frowns and then shakes his head, pulling his phone out of his pocket.

“I’ll find you someone. I’ve got a list of people in my phone. They’re great people, I think you’ll like them, honestly.”

“Liam—“

“Alright, now what about Cara? She’s funny and pretty and you’ll have a blast with her, I’m sure of it.”

“Is this the same Cara you tried to set me up with before I started seeing Nick?”

Liam frowns, biting down on his plump bottom lip as he thinks. “Right. Might be, actually,” he mumbles, thumbing at the screen. “Okay, this person is really great. What about Ben Winston? I know he’s your type, you’ll love him.”

“He’s married, Liam. He has a wife.”

“He’s married. Are you sure?”

“I went to the wedding, so yeah, I’m sure,” he says, laughing at the expression on Liam’s face. “It’s okay, Liam. I don’t need you to find me anyone. I’m fine, okay? Besides, I’d like to get over the relationship before I start seeing anyone.”

“Okay but what if I don’t find you anyone and someone finds you?” Liam asks, looking over Harry’s shoulder. “Like, say there was a guy here for you right now, would you turn him away?”

Harry shrugs because the likelihood of that happening is slim to none. It just doesn’t happen like that, so he’s not worried about it. Not really, anyway. He is a little worried about Liam’s gaze and why his eyes are tracking something.

“There’s a boy here and I think he might be into you,” Liam whispers, lifting up his drink to look at Harry. “Just at five o’clock. Look at five o’clock.”

“Whose five?” Harry asks, craning his neck to try and see who Liam is looking for. His eyes scan the busy street next to their table. Sitting outside at a café has its disadvantages when it comes to spying on strangers. But he sees him, the man with the fading blond hair across the street, smiling at the pair of them. “Shit,” Harry mutters, turning back to look at Liam. “I know him.”

“He’s coming over,” Liam tells him and he’s perking up, gathering his things off the table. “I’m going to go, okay? I’ve got a date tonight and it’s far too early to get ready but I’m going to go get ready and leave you here with that guy. He’s cute, Harry, don’t fuck this up.”

Before Harry can protest Liam’s gone, chair skidding in his wake as he rushes off, not at all discreet about why he’s leaving. Not like it matters because Niall is dropping down in the chair across from him like it was always meant for him, resting his elbows on the table and resting his head in his hands, smiling at Harry.

“Harry Styles, what are you doing here?”

“Hi, Niall,” mumbles Harry, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. He’s nervous for what this encounter will bring, if it’ll be anything like the last one. “And I was catching up with a friend, who as you can see, is no longer here.”

“It’s been a long time.”

“It has,” Harry agrees. Niall looks a little older now, his hair soft and flat on his head, the blond fading away to reveal a deep, dark brown. It looks nice on him, Harry thinks, almost better than the blond did. He’s still the same skinny boy that he was but he’s filled out a bit, light stubble on his face because he hasn’t shaved in a few days. He’s aging nicely, one might argue. One might but not Harry. He’s just…observing.

“How are you?” Niall asks, pulling the straw out of Liam’s glass and taking a sip out of it. Harry can’t help but smile at that because he’s definitely still very much Niall, despite the time that’s passed.

“I’m well, actually. And you?”

“Yeah, well,” Niall mutters, waving him off. “How is Nick? I heard he just got one of the top slots on radio. I can’t remember the station name, but I heard about it. I think I heard him on the air, actually. I can’t remember. Anyway, how is he?”

“Fine. I’d imagine he’s fine, probably more than fine, since he got that promotion, I’m not sure.”

“Are you two—“

“We just broke up, actually,” Harry tells him, shrugging when Niall’s face falls, his pale cheeks pinking up. He opens his mouth and Harry waves him off, shaking his head. “It’s alright. Obviously you can’t know those things, so don’t worry about it. How is um—what was his name, again? I can’t remember. Is married life everything you thought it would be?”

Niall snorts. “Wouldn't know, would I? I’m getting divorced.” He lifts his glass up, tipping it towards Harry and taking another swallow. “Wasn’t meant to be, I guess.” He shrugs and stares and then frowns, setting the glass back down on the table. “So why’d you and Nick break up?”

“Things change, I guess. I don’t know, I thought we were on the same page, you know. We went into the relationship wanting the same thing. We both wanted to focus on our careers, wanted to make the most of our young age by establishing ourselves both together and separately,” Harry explains, frowning as he remembers the beginning of his and Nick’s relationship. It was perfect; everything had been so wonderful…until it wasn’t. “But then one day, just recently actually, I realized that I had so much of what I wanted and I was missing the one thing I really wanted. Maybe it wasn’t what I wanted then, no, but I’m older now and seeing all of our friends get married and start families, I wanted that.”

“And he didn’t?”

“He didn’t,” Harry repeats, nodding. “We talked about it, talked about what we wanted and where we saw our lives going…turns out not much in his plan, was in my plan, so we called it day. And that’s fine, you know. We ran our course. We didn’t end on bad terms, we just…ended and I know it was the right thing to do.”

“Wow, I’m amazed at how well you’re handling it.”

Harry shrugs. “It’s fine, honestly. But what about you, how’d thing ends with—“

“Bressie.”

“Yeah.”

Niall sighs and runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up as he leans back, slouching slightly. “I came home a couple weeks ago and he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands, and I ask him what’s wrong. He looks at me, pats the couch next to him, and then says, ‘Niall, I don’t think I want to be married anymore.’”

“Ouch,” Harry mumbles, wincing sympathetically.

“Not the worst part,” Niall tells him, sitting up once more. “He said that he wanted to try and not be married, wanted us to go back to dating each other. Right, yeah, my exact face when he told me.”

“Why marry someone when you want to date them?”

“That’s what I said and he told me that it would only be temporary, nothing else. And then, three days later I come home to people moving his stuff out of our apartment. Apparently our dating trial run confirmed to him that he actually doesn’t want to be with me at all, so he moved out. Moved out of our place and moved in with a woman he works with, Laura, who I saw him with four days ago, making out and looking happy and in love.”

Harry’s mouth is hung open, his jaw unable to close. It’s an awful story and he’s never heard anything like it, someone being so heartless towards someone they claim to love, lying to them about why they can’t be together only to turn around and change their mind and fall in love with someone else, giving them everything they were just giving to someone else. Harry doesn’t ask if Niall thinks it was happening while they were together, he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to be the person to put that thought in Niall’s head if it weren’t there before.

Harry feels bad for him, something he never would have thought possible before. He feels badly knowing that Niall is going through a hard time and putting on a brave face. Or maybe he’s not; maybe he really is okay to know that his husband is with someone else before they’ve even submitted the divorce papers.

“You’re different,” Harry says eventually. “I don’t know, something about you.”

“It’s the hair, isn’t it? I haven’t touched it up, thinking about leaving it brown.”

“No, it’s not the hair, although that is different too,” Harry says, laughing. “I just feel—I don’t know. You know I hated you when we first met? And then when we met again, if I’m going to be fully honest here.”

“I did know that, actually. You were not as smooth with hiding it as you would have liked, I’m afraid.”

Harry smiles at him, finding himself thrilled to see the twinkle in Niall’s eyes, in the stunning shade of blue staring back at him. And it’s without meaning to that he finds himself saying, “Do you want to like, get dinner or something? With me?”

Niall perks up, grinning at Harry as he rests his head in his hand. “Are you finally asking me to be your friend then, Harry?”

“I guess I am,” Harry says and he’s shocked to know that he means it. That after years he’s finally warming up to the idea of Niall, to the blond boy across from him with the crooked grin and pretty eyes.

“You might be the first attractive person that I’ve not have sex with,” Niall tells him, pulling his phone out of his pocket and passing it over towards Harry. “Not had sex with and been friends with, I should say. Put your number in there, we’ll set something up.”

Harry shakes his head at the Niall-like comment and does as he’s told, giving the other boy his number. This feels like the start of something, of a friendship that he might need after his break up. And hopefully it is, hopefully his instincts are right in this moment and that Niall will be good for him.

>>>>

They get dinner later that week, at a little Italian place that’s tiny and cramped, filled with too many people. They have to shout to be heard but it’s nice. Harry enjoys himself and he enjoys Niall’s company. He’s funny and charming, mildly inappropriate at times, but it’s just what Harry needs right now. It’s different from all his other friendships, his one with Niall, because their history together means that they’re not afraid to be themselves.

Niall’s not afraid to be brash and crude and soft and witty, just like Harry’s not afraid to tell him when he’s being a bit of a dick, or to say what’s on his mind without much thought.

It’s nice.

One dinner turns into two and then three and then the next thing Harry knows it’s weeks, nearly a month after they ran into each other at the little café and they see each other three, sometimes four times a week. If they can’t see each other then they call, during their lunch breaks or when Niall finds something funny in a shop and he wants to tell Harry about it. Sometimes he calls late at night, when Harrys’ wrapped in his blankets and watching shitty movies.

Like tonight, it’s nearly eleven and Niall’s voice is drifting into his ear via telephone. Except there’s not a shitty movie on TV, rather his favorite movie, Love Actually, just when it’s starting to get really, really good. Or it could, if Niall would stop blabbering nonsense in his ear.

“After all this time, I still can’t believe you’d stay with the husband. Honestly, you’re out of your mind. I mean, look at how hot that friend is. And the bit with the wedding tape—“

“Was creepy,” Harry supplies. “Borderline stalking.”

Niall squawks in outrage and Harry laughs, pulling the blankets up to his mouth to hide the noise. “I mean, yes. It is a little weird some of the footage that he got of her but he’s a man in love, a man in love without a chance in hell, watching the woman he loves marry the wrong guy. You can’t blame him.”

“After all this time, I still can’t believe you’re rooting for the wrong person. I told you, it’s showing all kinds of love, unrequited love is real.”

“I know it is, remember my marriage?”

“Oh don’t start with that again. I thought we both agreed that it’s been long enough, we’re over it. We’re strong and confident and independent and we’re not going to wallow on their losses.”

“It’s a joke, Harry,” Niall says around a yawn, words drawn out and it makes Harry yawn. He scowls at the phone because he refuses to get tired before the movie is over. He has to see the talent show scene; he just has to. “And anyway, it’s like you said, their loss not ours.”

“Good to see that you’re finally seeing reason on something. If only I could get you to agree with me about this movie.”

“That’ll never happen,” Niall mumbles, voice sounding far off. He must be getting tired, Harry thinks to himself, blinking heavily himself. He’ll make it, he knows that he will because that’s his favorite part, listening to his favorite Christmas song be sung on stage while a little boy drums his heart out for his crush, the young girl that he believes he’s madly in love with. And he probably is, in that young, juvenile way that makes them think every attraction is your one and only. “Tell me something interesting, I’m bored.”

Harry hums, yawning as the movie cuts to commercial. Something interesting…he’s not sure he has anything, at least not anything that he hasn’t already told to Niall. Well, no. There is one thing, one thing that already has his cheeks flaming.

“Have I ever told you that I have a reoccurring dream?” Harry asks and he hears Niall grunt into the phone. “I do.”

“What’s it about?”

“Well, it’s um… It’s kind of sex dream,” Harry mumbles and he hears Niall snort into the fun. “Well, it’s not just any sex dream.”

“Is it about me?” Niall asks and this time Harry snorts.

“No, it’s not about you. It’s just weird, is the thing. I’m in a field and I don’t notice anyone around, at least not yet I haven’t, but I’m dressed and then suddenly my clothes are ripped off my body and I’m completely naked.”

“And then you gasp awake and you’re rock hard? Yeah, I have that all the time,” Niall tells him. “That was boring, tell me something better.”

Harry ignores him, going back to watching the movie now that it’s back on. It only takes a few minutes before he hears Niall’s quiet snores through the speaker, it’s not the best soundtrack to a movie he’s ever had, but it’ll do.

>>>>

Harry watches as Niall makes faces at the Grizzly Bears, leaning against the fence of their enclosure and sticking his tongue out at them as they lounge in their home. They don’t seem to notice him, swatting at one of the toys that the zookeepers left out for them. Harry wasn’t sure what Niall had planned when he invited Harry to the zoo on a Saturday afternoon, but he didn’t expect it to be something that could annoy an animal that could rip them to shreds.

“He’s going to jump that fence and eat you,” Harry tells him, folding his arms over his chest, “and I won’t do a thing to stop him. I’ll even help fight off anyone who does try to stop him.”

“I want him to stick his tongue out at me,” Niall says, turning away from the bear.

“And why would you want that?”

“It’d be fucking hilarious,” Niall says, grinning. “Have you ever seen those videos of the bears waving back at people? I want that, except I want him to stick his tongue out at me make faces.”

“You’re an idiot,” Harry laughs, throwing an arm over Niall’s shoulder to guide him along. The zoo is crowded, not as crowded as it probably was this morning, but they’re taking up valuable fence space that children, who want to actually appreciate the animal, could be using. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, Niall.”

“I know; I’m one of a kind.”

“Not sure if that’s a good thing.”

“Oh piss off,” Niall laughs, elbowing Harry in the ribs. “You’re the one spending your free time with me, so what does that say about you?”

“That I need more of a life,” he says without missing a beat, grinning when Niall scowls at him. “It does say that you have great taste, though. I’ll give you that.”

“I’ll give you that,” Niall mutters under his breath, shaking his head as they approach the seals.

Harry follows the other boy, just a few steps behind him as Niall finds them a spot to see clearly, just a little bit away from the crowd, but close enough that they’re not missing anything. He looks like a small child here, wrapped in a heavy coat, beanie shoved on his head, and excitement in his eyes. He looks soft and comfortable, like he’s having the time of his life right now. Harry enjoys seeing it.

“I bet they could make a face at you,” Harry tells him and Niall laughs, crossing his eyes and sticking his tongue out. “Perfect, now show it to them.”

“No, seals are trained to do stuff like this, to make faces at me. It wouldn’t be as impressive if I told everyone a seal made a face at me.”

“Oh sorry, I didn’t realize you were hoping to get a story out of this.”

“I want a story out of everything,” Niall admits, grinning at Harry quickly before he looks back at the seals, watching as they dive in and out of the water, soaring passed the glass where they stand. There’s a cool breeze and Harry watches Niall’s hair blow in it, watches as his cheeks pink up. He always seems to be pink, Harry observes, smiling to himself.

Niall catches him staring and Harry blinks, shaking his head. “What?”

“I asked you a question, you idiot. You want to see a movie tonight?”

“Oh,” Harry mumbles, biting down on his bottom lip. That’s kind of—well, there’s a reason he told Niall he’d see him during the day instead of at night, because he has plans. Date-like plans. “I’d love to but I can’t tonight, maybe tomorrow?”

“Why not? Weren’t you just whining the other night about how you wanted to see that new one with the spies and whatever else, I forget?”

“I was, yeah, and I still want to see it, but I have a date tonight,” he bites down harsher on his lip and watches Niall’s reaction carefully.

“Huh,” Niall mutters, head cocked. “That’s alright.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think that you’d want to do anything else after this. And I mean, I had the date plans before I made plans with you,” Harry rattles off, feeling a spike of panic build up in his chest because he wasn’t trying to hurt Niall’s feelings. “We can go tomorrow, I promise. I don’t have any plans, I can be all yours.”

“No, what?” Niall laughs, shaking his head. He pushes off the glass divider and loops his arm through Harry’s, gently tugging him along. “I don’t really care you’ve got a date, it’s fine.”

“I really am sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? You’ll have fun,” Niall says. “Hey, maybe I should find myself a date? Don’t you think?”

Harry finds himself nodding along, listening as Niall talks about perspective dates that he could get. He can still feel the prickle under his ribs, the little bit of him that still feels badly, like he’s chosen a date over his friend.

>>>>

Harry slams his apartment door shut with a heavy sigh, locking it quickly. He kicks off his shoes and then begins stripping out of his clothes, leaving a trail from his door to his bed, jacket forgotten in the foyer, pants in the hall, socks at his bedside. He flops down on his bed face first, vibrating phone clutched in his hand. He’ll check it…later. Right now he wants to wallow, wants to groan into his mattress and bask in his self-pitying thoughts because that was one of the worst dates he’s ever been on.

Granted, he has been out of the game for a while. He’s out of practice and he could have done a few things differently, like—actually, no. Harry wasn’t the problem. Derek was a huge problem. He was rude to their waitress and cocky, bragging about his life and his accomplishments. And yeah, Harry has done a few things in his life that he’s proud of but he’s not a complete twat. He was too much, for Harry at least. He’s bound to make someone else very happy…one day.

Harry’s phone keeps buzzing and he groans, rolling onto his side and staring at the screen, a succession of messages from Niall arriving.

**_think i broke my microwave !_ **

****

**_shit ! ur on that date rite ? sry !!!!_ **

****

**_wait , how is it ??_ **

****

**_better not b seein tht movie !!_ **

****

Harry laughs and shakes his head, rolling fully onto his back so that he can thumb open his phone, opening Niall’s messages so that he can reply.

_Sorry to hear about your microwave. If it makes you feel any better my date was awful._

**_doesnt but thnks for tryin_ **

****

**_wht happend_ **

_He was a loser, along with rude and boring. I’d have had a better time with a rock, I’d bet._

**_karma_ **

****

_For what?!_

**_bailin on me !_ **

****

Harry snorts and shifts around, rolling underneath the blankets. He pulls them up to his chin and lies back, head resting on the pillows. He taps his phone against the side of his face, trying to think of something to say in response when it buzzes again.

**_didnt break microwave , forgot t hit button_ **

****

Harry snorts and tosses his phone to the side; he’s not going to answer that. He’s going to sleep off his shitty evening.

>>>>

It sort of becomes a thing after that, going out on dates. Niall goes out the following Tuesday, with a pretty blonde named Ellie, a girl he met through a friend. It doesn’t work out, at least that’s what he told Harry. Then Harry goes out that Thursday, coffee after work with a guy named Jeremy, he’s a writer, like Harry, but unlike Harry, he’s bland and boring. He spends most of their time together having an existential crisis about almost everything, how his coffee tasted, how his latest book is going, how his mother keeps calling but he doesn’t want to hear from her, not when he’s going through a creative block.

Niall laughs for hours after Harry tells him about it, hands clutching his stomach as he cackles madly. His laughter dies when he goes out on a date just as bad, the two of them arguing in the middle of dinner. Niall won’t tell Harry what it was about, so he figures it’s something dumb, but not dumb enough that he’d want Harry to know.

It goes on for weeks; the two of them going out on more dates than Harry went on during college. And none of them work out. Either they’re awful or boring or the other person never gives them a call back, it’s an endless cycle of rejection, for them and their suitors.

Harry’s a bit turned off by the whole process, he doesn’t understand why he’s pushing it so hard, why he feels like he needs to go out on these dates. He doesn’t understand what he’s trying to achieve, at least not anymore.

“It was one of the most uncomfortable nights of me life,” Niall sighs, stretching his legs out so they’re lying across Harry’s lap. “She seemed great at first, saying all the right things, ya know? It felt like we were going to have so much in common and then it just fell short. She took me to this club. It was way too crowded, I felt like I couldn’t breathe so I had to get out of there, had to leave before I went crazy.”

“I thought you liked going to bars and places like that.”

“I do but…I don’t know. This one was too much. She was dancing too close to me and I felt like the room was caving in on me.”

“Well, Niall, maybe this just means that we’re not ready to date anyone yet,” Harry sighs, fingers curling around Niall’s ankle. “We’ve both been on all these dates and none of them have worked out, why do you think that is?”

“All the good ones are taken,” Niall shouts, lifting his beer in the air. He hasn’t been able to drink it since he lay down. He tried but all he managed to do was spill some of it on his shirt. “We’re swimming at the bottom of the barrel, Harry.”

“No, I think it’s a sign from the universe that we’re not ready to date yet.”

“If we weren’t ready then we wouldn’t be doing it.”

“Well, that’s kind of true. I can see your point with that one. But that’s not what the universe is telling us.”

“The universe doesn’t know shit.”

“It does, Niall,” Harry insists, pinching Niall’s ankle to get his attention. “The universe is sending us shit people for a reason.”

“And you believe that?”

“Of course I do,” Harry says and he sounds confident, which is more than what he feels inside. Inside he feels like maybe Niall is right, that the universe doesn’t know anything and they’re both stuck with all the people that no one wanted. But that can’t be true, plenty of amazing people are single, they’re just not having any luck finding them. And maybe they’re not having any luck finding them either, so at least they’re not alone. “Maybe it’ll be a while before we find someone that we want to go out with more than once.”

Niall groans, throwing his feet off Harry’s lap so that he can sit up, taking a swig of his beer before he drops it down on Harry’s coffee table. “How much longer do you think?”

“Months,” Harry says and Niall frowns. “Probably longer before we’re ready to have sex with someone.”

“Oh no,” Niall mutters, shaking his head. “I’ve already had sex.”

“You what?” Harry cries, sitting up straighter. He turns his body to look at Niall properly, mouth hung open slightly. “You did? When? With you?”

“A couple of them, actually. I had sex with Ellie.”

“You said that date was boring.”

“It was boring but that doesn’t mean I can’t have sex with her.”

“Well, who else?”

“Um…Eoghan, that guy who took me to get ice cream, and Barbara.”

“But you hated them?” Harry says, stunned. He remembers Niall complaining about each and every one them, whining about how their dates weren’t that great. Well, Barbara was alright, he said, but she never called him back. So Harry might be able to believe that they could have hooked up, if there had been more than one date but… “I don’t understand. How can you say that you had an awful time with them and then sleep with them?”

Niall shrugs. “I don’t know, it just happened. The date itself sucked, yeah, but then other things sucked, if you know what I mean.” Niall winks at him and Harry frowns, swatting at his shoulder because disgusting, he doesn’t want to hear the dirty details of it.

>>>>

Harry tries to let it go. He tries to forget about how Niall had awful dates and still found it in himself to want to sleep with them. Harry can’t wrap his mind around that sort of logic. Every instance of sex that he’s had was with someone he enjoyed, someone he cared about, maybe not loved, but still. Harry liked them in some capacity, he enjoyed the time they spent together outside of the bedroom as well, and then here Niall is, sleeping with strangers that bored him to tears, or shouted at him, or took him to a places that made him uncomfortable.

So Harry tries to ignore it because that’s Niall’s business and it’s not his and if there is one thing that he knows about Niall, it’s that the other boy doesn’t make a lick of sense. He can, but not always. And right now is one of those instances.

He lets it go for all of three days but then he can’t. He just can’t any longer.

They’re at a small little diner, a hole in the wall place that most people walk right passed, only to walk in one day out of curiosity, wanting to know more about the place they see everyday. And it’s then they discover the place has the best food in the world. That’s what this place is, fake wood tables with plastic tops and maroon colored booths that are cold beneath Harry’s legs despite the heat pumping out through the vents.

“I know it’s been a couple days since we talked about this, but I gotta ask you something,” Harry says and Niall nods, mouth filled with food.

“What’s up?” He says, words garbled together from the sandwich he’s eating, cheeks puffing out comically.

“The other day when you talked about your dates and like, how you’ve had sex with them. I just don’t—I don’t understand. I don’t get how you can just sleep with someone.”

Niall looks at him, head cocked as he finishes chewing. He laughs lightly, lifting up his cocoa and taking a sip. He’s the strangest boy, pairing a turkey sandwich with potato soup and hot cocoa, two foods that should not be eaten with a glass of hot chocolate.

“You don’t understand how I could have sex with someone?”

“Well, yeah. After a shitty date, I don’t understand how you can sleep with someone.”

“I just do,” Niall says, like that’s actually answering Harry’s question. “I don’t know what to tell you, Harry. I like having sex. I’m pretty great at it, actually. Not one complaint. My partners are always satisfied,” Niall states proudly, grinning at Harry before he takes another bite of his sandwich.

“You can’t know that,” Harry says, swirling his spoon around in his soup uselessly. “They could be faking it.”

Niall snorts, rolling his eyes like Harry’s just said the most idiotic thing he’s ever heard. “They’re not. They couldn’t.”

“Research shows that people fake orgasms all the time, so you can’t be the only person out there having meaningless casual sex and consistently pleasing your partners, someone has to be faking it,” Harry tells him, watching as Niall’s mouth drops open, a look of outrage on his face. “People don’t have orgasms with their spouse, someone people have said to have never had one, so yeah. Plenty of people have probably faked it for you.”

“Harry, you can tell when it happens.”

“Oh, you think you know?”

“Yes, I do. I know.”

“Alright,” Harry mumbles, dropping his spoon. It clatters as it hits the ceramic plate beneath his bowl. He wipes his hands off on his napkin and clears his throat, because Niall doesn’t know what he’s talking about and Harry’s always been one that likes to prove him wrong.

He starts with running his fingers through his hair, closing his eyes and imagining that he’s with someone, that there’s a man straddling his lap and kissing along his jaw, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. He can feel his breath pick up, a tiny gasp leaving his mouth as he imagines someone’s tongue flicking out against his nipple, their hand palming his dick through his jeans. He hopes that he doesn’t get hard at this table; that he can show Niall how easy it is to fake an orgasm without his cock getting fully hard.

He continues to run his fingers through his hair, pulling gently as he trails his hands down his body slowly. The person he’s imagining slowly unzips his jeans, mouthing at his boxers. He groans, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Harry, are you alright?” Niall asks and Harry ignores him, groaning out loud once more.

“Oh god,” he moans. He keeps his eyes shut and continues on, gripping at the table top and arching his back up, muttering out pleas of more and right there and oh fucking perfect, of don’t stop and harder, please just a little harder.

He’s getting too loud, he knows it, so he hurries it up, letting out a choked cry that leaves him gasping, nails digging into the tabletop.

When he opens his eyes Niall’s staring at him, shocked and in awe. Harry smiles at him and picks up his spoon, dunking it in the soup and slurping some in his mouth. Niall smiles at him finally and shakes his head, muttering something under his breath that Harry can’t make out. Niall’s cheeks are red, the color trailing down his neck and disappearing beneath his sweater. Harry smirks to himself, satisfied.

>>>>

Christmas sneaks up on them, much like it does to everyone every year. Harry had thought he had enough time to get everything done that he needed to, but he doesn’t. He somehow manages to find gifts for his family and his friends, a collection of sports memorable for Niall that’ll make him nut in his pants, he’s absolutely sure of it.

It’s a lighter Christmas this year, not having to buy anything for Nick and his parents, his sister, and his niece and nephew. It means that Harry has more money to spend on other things, like a wreath for his apartment door, one that takes batteries and lights up. If he presses another button then it sings songs. Niall made it play Jingle Bells the entire first night he bought it, laughing to himself for what felt like hours, completely amazed that a wreath can play music.

Harry decides to splurge on a Christmas tree this year. He doesn’t have a boyfriend so he deserves a nice tree, damn it.

“What about this one?”

Harry takes a step back, head titled to the side as he takes in the tree Niall’s standing next to. It’s large and round but it’s lopsided, one side fatter than the other. He shakes his head and Niall groans, throwing his hands up in the air. It’s the sixth tree that Harry’s rejected since they arrived. It’s not his fault, though. He wants a specific kind of tree, a fir or a spruce. They have the nicest branches. Niall keeps showing him pine trees, they’re just—They’re not right for Christmas.

“Harry, we’ve walked up and down every one of these rows. You’ve turned your nose up at all of them.”

“I have not,” Harry defends, running his fingers along the needles of the tree, feeling the scratchy texture between his fingers. “None of these are nice, that’s not my fault.”

“They all look the same,” Niall retorts, muttering an additional comment under his breath that Harry doesn’t catch. “And besides that, these are two big. I’m not carrying one of these heavy fuckers back to your place.”

“They’re not that big.”

“Harry, this one is eight feet tall. That’s big, alright? Let’s go look at them Charlie Brown ones.”

Harry sighs and drags his feet as he follows Niall, his shoes leaving a trail in the dust of snow on the ground. The trees Niall mentioned are in the back, lined up along a fence. Everyone is ignoring them, rushing off towards the fuller ones. Niall’s looking at one that comes up to his shoulders, decently fat and a little sparse towards the back. It’s not as awful as it could be but it’s sitting with the rejects, like the kids in movies alone on the bleachers waiting to be asked to dance at prom, knowing the opportunity might not come. It’s the same for the trees, they were cut down for this purpose and they probably won’t make the cut.

Harry scratches his scalp through his beanie and sighs, nodding when Niall looks at him. “Yeah, alright, let’s get it.”

It takes them nearly an hour to carry it back to Harry’s apartment. They argue over it for a while, who gets to carry the front and who gets the back. Then it takes them a while to get the hang of it, to work themselves into a rhythm that makes it easy. Halfway home they stop, propping the tree against a building to catch their breath.

The tree looks nice in Harry’s living room, though, the sparse back facing the window so that no one can see it if they visit. And he’s on the ninth floor, so it’s not like anyone is going to be peeking through his window to check on his tree.

“I never took you for a star guy,” Niall says, pulling Harry’s tree topper out of the box of ornaments.

“Are you not?” Harry asks, pulling out the feather boa that he likes to use as garland. He lies it down on the chair so that he can grab the gold balls that he likes to hang up on the tree.

“No. Like to use angels more. Want me to put this thing up?”

“Now? No, Niall, we have to actually decorate it first. The topper goes last,” Harry says, outraged and appalled. “Who raised you, an animal?”

Niall laughs and sets the star down, holding his hands up in surrender. “Calm down, tiger. I’ll hang up a—oh look, a little gold star ornament. Is that okay to hang up after lights? Or do we need to turn them on first.”

“It’d be nice if you did,” Harry mumbles, hanging up his ornament. He watches as Niall shakes his head and plugs the tree it, the white lights flicking on immediately. Niall looks at it and then moves across the room, turning off the big light. The room glows, illuminated only by the lights strung on the tree. “Are you setting the mood, Horan?”

“Figured someone might as well,” he says, flashing Harry a grin before he helps.

>>>>

The tree looks amazing when they finish. Harry’s proud of them, nodding in satisfaction as he stares at it from across the room.

Niall’s sat on the couch, feet propped on Harry’s table as he watches A Christmas Story on television while Harry makes hot chocolate in the kitchen. He drops a few marshmallows in and then wraps his fingers through the handle, lifting the mugs off the counter so he can bring them in the other room.

Niall laughs when he sees the mugs, one that looks like Santa while the other looks like Frosty. Niall takes Frosty and grins at Harry as he blows over the scolding liquid.

“You really love Christmas, don’t you?”

Harry shrugs because he loves it as much as anything. He used to love it for the presents, because he’d wake up and have more than he did when he went to sleep. Now he likes it because he gets to go back home and see his family again, gets to spend time with them and catch up. And of course the food, but isn’t that the best part of every family gathering, regardless of the occasion?

“I like being prepared for anything,” Harry says instead. “And they were gifts from my mom. She mailed them to me a couple years ago.”

“Ah,” Niall mutters, understanding the silent ‘she sent them to me and Nick when we were still together’. “Well, smart mom you’ve got. You going to see her for the holidays?”

“Yeah, for a bit. I’m going up Christmas Eve and then I’ll be back the twenty-seventh, what about you?”

“About the same, actually except I’ll be back on the twenty-eighth. My mom begged me to stay longer. It’s easier in the off season but you know,” Niall says, shrugging as he takes a sip of the cocoa. Harry doesn’t know, his job doesn’t give him such lax hours, not like Niall’s does. It’s easy for him to take time off from the radio station when baseball’s not on. The one perk of being the stadium announcer for a major league team, plenty of off time when he’s not popping in at radio or the local news stations to talk about sports. “What about New Years? You going back?”

“No, I’ll be here. Alone.”

“Alone? You’re not going to what’s his name’s party?”

“Yeah, but I’ll still be alone. I don’t have a date.”

Niall scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You’ve got me.”

“You’re going to be my date?” Harry asks skeptically, looking at Niall with an eyebrow raised. Niall nods and makes a face that says ‘duh’. “Really, you want to be my date?”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Niall tells him, smiling as he tucks his legs under his body. He turns his eyes back towards the television and Harry finds himself biting back a smile, hiding it in the rim of his mug. He takes a sip of cocoa and sighs to himself, content to know that he has something else to look forward to besides Christmas with his family.

>>>>

Christmas comes and goes with a soft flurry of snow and the quiet, warming comfort that only the holiday season can give. Harry sees his family, eats too much honey ham and laughs until his stomach hurts. He stays up late drinking wine with his sister, trading stories of their lives since they last spoke. He texts Niall and Liam late at night, wishing them both a happy Christmas before he falls asleep in the bed that he slept in for most of his life, missing them more than necessary.

He’s sad to say goodbye to his parents but grateful to be back at his own place. The tree he and Niall set up is still sitting by the window, glowing white as he watches it from the couch, reading the book that his stepdad gave him. 

Harry doesn’t see Niall until the New Years party. He’s standing across the room, champagne flute in hand while he laughs with someone that Harry doesn’t recognize. They seem familiar with each other and Harry feels a pinch beneath his ribs as he watches them. It’s an odd sort of thing, missing someone after only a few short days apart, especially someone that he used to hate. But it’s nice, the change in their relationship. Harry’s happy for it, happy to have run into Niall after his break up.

Niall sees him and he visibly brightens, saying something to the people he’s with before he rushes towards Harry, throwing himself on the other boy.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d see you,” Niall says in his ear. He pulls away and keeps his hand on Harry’s neck, white teeth on display. “Thought you might be standing me up.”

“I thought about it,” Harry lies. “I saw the line up for the New Years performances at Times Square, thought I might ditch you and head over there, standing outside in the freezing cold and pretend I can see my favorite singers.”

“Oh you should have gone, I’m sure the general public would have loved to see your tits,” Niall mutters.

“Hey,” Harry whines, covering the bare part of his chest. It’s not undone that low, not enough for anything to peek out that shouldn’t. At least not right now, he might get brave later and unbutton another one, just to make Niall laugh. “Like your tie, Mr. Horan. You look like you’re here to sell me something.”

“I am, actually.”

Harry nods and takes Niall’s champagne from him, draining it quickly in an attempt to catch up with Niall. His cheeks are flushed and Harry guesses that he’s had at least two of these. His eyes aren’t red and glassy yet, so he’s still sober enough, which is good, Harry wants to slide into drunk with him.

“Do you want to dance?” Niall asks, taking the glass away from Harry and setting it down on a table. He grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him towards the section of apartment that’s been turned into a dance floor.

“I should find Liam and say hi to him first.”

“Nonsense, you should dance with me first. I am your date, remember?”

Niall spins him around before he pulls him in, the two of them dancing wildly. They keep their hands held together and spin around each other, making the other one do what they want like a puppet. Niall spins him around a few times before he wraps his arms around him and dips him, grinning at him before he lets him up again.

“You’re not the best dancer,” Harry tells him, his mouth pressed against Niall’s cheek so that he can be heard over the music.

“I’m the best you got, Styles.” Niall tugs on Harry’s hands and pulls him in so their chests are pressed together and they’re dancing with his arm around Harry’s waist. “You wanted a better dancer then you should have brought another date.”

“No, you’re good. A good date. I stand by the ‘not the best dancer’ part.”

“Well, if neither of us are with someone next year then you know who your date will be.”

“Really? You want to be my date again?”

“That’s why I’m here, Harry,” Niall says, grinning at Harry before he presses their cheeks together.

Harry sighs and dances with him, slower than the music permits but it’s nice. Harry holds onto Niall and Niall holds onto him back, grip tight on Harry’s back. He takes a deep breath and breathes Niall in, cologne and champagne and the apple shampoo that he’s so fond of. Harry missed him, missed the way he smelled and the way they interact with each other. He missed the teasing and the simplicity of it all.

There’s a steady tug in Harry’s gut, a light flutter that he doesn’t understand. He closes his eyes and hopes that he’s not getting sick. He hasn’t eaten in a few hours and the little bit of champagne he’s had shouldn’t have made him feel this way.

The music gets turned down and someone in the background shouts about how the countdown is starting. Harry lifts his head off Niall’s shoulder and pulls away, smiling at him as the people around them scream.

Ten. Niall smiles back.

Nine. Harry looks around at everyone else, at the smiles on their faces.

Eight. Niall’s hand strokes his back, turning his attention back to him.

Seven. Harry thinks back on the changes this year.

Six. He broke up with Nick, his boyfriend of several years.

Five. He met Niall again.

Four. He became friends with Niall, the first time it’s happened since they’ve known each other.

Three. He and Niall became inseparable.

Two. Harry went on more dates than he has in his life.

One.

Everyone around them shouts happy New Year before diving into each other’s arms, kissing and laughing, clinking their glasses together in a toast for what’s to come. Harry and Niall look at each other for a moment, unsure of what to do next. Niall laughs and leans forward, pressing his lips against Harry’s quickly and softly. It happens so fast that Harry doesn’t have a chance to process it. He can’t remember the feeling of Niall’s lips, if they were warm or chapped or soft.

“Happy New Year, Harry,” Niall mutters.

Harry clears his throat and smiles. “Yeah, happy New Year, Niall.”

>>>>

Liam comes over a few days later, wrapped tightly in a heavy coat. His cheeks are red still from the cold temperatures outside and his boots are covered in snow when he kicks them off in Harry’s entryway. Harry rushes towards the kitchen to turn the flame off on the soup.

“You can adjust the heat, if you need to,” Harry shouts, grabbing two bowls and pouring generous helpings into them. He wasn’t expecting Liam yet, he thought he still had another half hour before the other boy was supposed to show up.

“I’ll be alright,” Liam mutters. He’s wearing a thick sweater, one that looks handmade. Liam must be able to read his mind because he sighs and drops down in the chair that Harry points to. “My mom gave me this for Christmas. It’s not the prettiest, I know, but it keeps me warm.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry says, setting a bowl down in front of Liam before he joins him. “I have stash in my closet of Karen Payne sweaters, so I wouldn’t dream of insulting them. Although, it does look like she’s gotten better at getting the sleeves the same length.”

“Don’t ask me why, but she says learning how to make socks has helped her with that.”

“Socks?” Harry asks, eyebrow cocked. Liam nods and lifts his leg up in the air, waving his teal colored sock around for Harry to see. “A regular twenty-first century woman, your mom.”

“There’s some for you in the bag I left by the door,” Liam tells him, grinning as he dives into his soup. Harry laughs and shakes his head, starting to eat as well.

Liam’s mom is one of his favorite people in the world. She’s the nicest lady, one of those women that sort of adopts all of her children’s friends, making them clothes and sending them cards on their birthdays with heartfelt notes. So Harry’s not surprised to hear that Liam comes with a bag of goodies from his mom.

“So, did you have fun at the New Years’ party?”

“Yeah, it was alright,” Harry says, shrugging. He can’t remember much of what happened after midnight aside from Niall’s laughter and stumbling in the snow as they went back to Niall’s house. He knows that he passed out on Niall’s couch with one shoe still on and his shirt off and being used as a blanket but that’s it. “Whose place even was that?”

“Andy’s, you remember him?”

“The one with the lion mane for hair?” Harry asks, head titled as he tries to put a face to the name. Liam sighs and nods. “Yeah, okay. Niall kept calling him ‘what’s his face’ or ‘you know, the guy’. I couldn’t tell if he genuinely didn’t know or if he was waiting for me to tell him.”

“Yeah, he probably didn’t know,” Liam says. “And uh, speaking of Niall. He had a good time, too?”

“I never heard any complaints.”

“So you both had a good time…together…on New Years?” Liam asks, looking as innocent as possible as he sucks the liquid off his spoon, doing his best to smile at Harry.

“We did, yeah. Why?” questions Harry, his eyes squinted suspiciously. “Why do you look like you have gossip? What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I mean, aside from you two kissing, that is, which you still haven’t told me about.”

“We didn’t kiss.”

“You did. I saw.”

“Okay, then it had to have been when we were drunk. I really don’t remember it. And anyway-“

“No, not when you were drunk,” Liam says, cutting him off, “I know that neither of you were drunk when the ball dropped, correct?”

“Oh that kiss,” Harry says, laughing. Liam’s been freaking out about that? He has that look on his face because of _that_? “Liam, everyone kissed someone at midnight, that’s what you do. We didn’t want to be left out. It wasn’t a thing.”

“Looked like a thing.”

“Because it was a kiss or because you’ve been making stuff up in your head for the last three days?”

Liam shrugs, taking another bite. “It didn’t look that friendly to me. You know you can tell me if you like him. I know that you both spend a lot of time together.”

“We’re friends, Liam. And we spend a lot of time together because we’re both single.”

“I’m single.”

“I know you are. I know—“ Harry stops, his face breaking out into a grin as an idea comes to him. “You should date Niall. You’re both single and you’re both my best friends, imagine how great it would be to have my best friend’s dating.”

“Oh no,” Liam mutters, shaking his head wildly. “No. I couldn’t do that. I can’t. He’s your friend, Harry.”

“No, come on. This would be perfect. You know how you get when you start to date someone, you get so wrapped up in them that sometimes you forget me. I’m not saying it’s a bad thing,” Harry adds quickly, when he sees that Liam is about to interject. “But if you’re dating Niall then that won’t happen, because you’re both my friend so we’d get to spend so much time together. And neither of you have really properly gotten to know each other, you know that you could hit it off so well.”

“Harry, I don’t know.”

“Please,” Harry begs, widening his eyes and jutting out his bottom lip like a child wanting candy in the store. “Please just give him a chance, for me.”

Liam stares at him for a moment before he sighs, nodding. Harry throws a fist in the air and woots, happy to have won. 

“I’ll set it up with Niall, okay? You’re going to love him, I swear.”

>>>>

Liam and Niall’s date quickly becomes a double date when Niall offers to bring his own friend for Harry. Harry doesn’t know much about him, other than the fact that his name is Louis and he and Niall have known each other for ages. Niall promises that he’s a great guy, says he’s a lot of fun and that Harry will really enjoy him. He agrees, only because it means that he’ll be able to get Niall and Liam to go out.

They go to a nice restaurant on the east side, not too nice, since they don’t want to wait ages for a table, but decent enough that Harry’s not worried about health code violations.

Louis is…okay. He’s shorter than Harry and he’s all sharp edges; not just in appearance but also in personality. His laugh is loud and prickly, spitting out jokes like he invented them. And he’s a bit crude, in a different way than Niall. Niall’s brashness comes off as charming, even when he ignores his brain to mouth filter Harry finds himself laughing along with him. But with Louis, he stares at him, blinking until he has to take a sip of the wine he ordered.

“Niall says that you work in a news station.”

“Yeah, I’m a reporter,” Harry tells him, wishing that they hadn’t already ordered their food so that he could have something to play with in his hands. Louis makes him nervous, he’s not sure why. “He didn’t tell me what you do, sorry.”

“I’m a song writer.”

“Oh, that sounds like fun. Would I know any of anything you’ve written?”

“No,” Louis says, smiling before he grabs his glass off the table, taking a drink.

“Oh,” Harry mumbles, frowning. “Well, what genre do you write for?”

“Mostly like, popish stuff. Maybe a little pop rockish, stuff like that. More like, mainstream and contemporary music. You know, catchy and with a beat. The kind of songs you’d hear on the radio.”

Harry nods. “Yeah, that’s not really my cup of tea.”

“Why not? Do you think that you’re too good for it? Or what?”

“No, I didn’t say that. It’s just about personal interests. My ears don’t really care for it. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with it. I find myself humming some of the more popular songs from time to time but it’s just like…not what I prefer to listen to, if I had a choice.”

“Huh,” Louis mutters, rolling his eyes as he looks away from Harry.

Harry frowns and turns his gaze away as well, turning to look at Liam and Niall. The two of them both look stiff and the conversation seems strained. Liam’s laughing and nodding along but it’s wrong. Harry knows his friends well enough to know when they’re faking it to be polite.

“Liam, have you told Niall any of your stories from work? I know he’d love to hear them,” Harry interjects when he sees that their conversation is dying off. “Liam’s a firefighter, sometimes he gets the craziest calls.”

“They’re not all crazy,” Liam says. “Some of them are very serious. But we do get a few odd balls, well no. I mean, they’re calling us for emergencies so I shouldn’t say that.”

“One woman called because her son shoved something up his nose,” Harry supplies because damn it, Liam, he’s trying to help here. “And by the time she got there she had already gotten it out.”

“Yeah, that was an interesting one. She called us, turned out that she didn’t need us, but kept us around because she wanted to us to take a look at one of her outlets, like we were electricians or something, said her lights keep flickering and asked us to fix it for her.”

“Were you able to?” Niall asks and Liam shakes his head.

“No, we had to tell her that's not in our job description.”

“But rescuing kittens is,” Louis says, grinning at Liam.

Liam shrugs. “We rescue anything and anyone that needs it,” he says dutifully and Harry smiles, nodding towards Liam as he looks at Niall. “There was another time when we were called and they told us that a small child had been hit by a car with injuries. The call dropped and we were all terrified, it’s never fun when you hear child and injuries in the same sentence. Anyway, we get there and see the little girl and her mother sitting outside on the porch, with a rag pressed to the little girls head.”

“Was she okay?”

“Yeah, it turns out that her twin sister threw a toy car at her and it nicked her forehead,” Liam says, laughing to himself. “It wasn’t really funny then, to have worried for nothing, but it is when you look back on it.”

“Wait, how long ago did that happen?” Louis asks.

“I don’t know, maybe five months ago.”

“Do you remember the house? The little girl?”

“Uh yeah, she was small, blonde. I think it was a brick two story in Queens.”

“That was my family who made the call,” Louis says and Liam cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah, I remember getting a call from my mom later that night telling me that Daisy and Phoebe – those are my little sisters – got into a fight and Phoebe got so angry she chucked one of my little brothers toys and hit Daisy in the head. She had to get stitches.”

“Yeah, just above her eyebrow. That was really your sister?”

“Yeah, swear on it,” Louis says, holding his hand up in the air.

“Oh my god. That’s the first time I’ve ever told that story and it was your sister,” Liam says, his eyes wide and amazed. “I can’t believe this, what are the chances?” 

“My mom is going to love hearing about this,” Louis mumbles, shaking his head as he takes another sip of his wine.

The two of them continue talking, ignoring Niall and Harry completely. They don’t stop, they continue on while the waitress is dropping off their plates and while Harry is trying to enjoy his meal. He looks up at Niall in annoyance who smiles at him and shrugs. He doesn’t seem to be that bothered by it, interjecting into the conversation whenever he feels like it.

And okay. If Niall can be alright with this then so can Harry. It’s not that big of a deal, their best friends getting to know each other. That’s kind of what a double date is, isn’t it?

>>>>

Liam pulls Harry aside before they can leave the restaurant properly. Louis and Niall stop a few feet away, staring back at them. Harry shrugs at Niall before he turns to Liam.

“What’s wrong?”

“I really like Louis,” Liam mutters and Harry blinks. He could see how well they got along, it doesn’t take a genius to figure that out with the way they talked to each other all night, completely ignoring Niall and Harry. “He’s so funny and he seems like he really knows how to have fun. I need that, don’t you think? Someone who can have fun? I don’t know.” Liam sighs and looks at Harry, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“I mean, if you like him then you like him, right?”

“Yeah. You’re not mad though, right? I mean, you came here with him and I came here with Niall, your best friend. You won’t be angry if I…you know…like, talk to him more?”

“No. No, of course not,” Harry mutters, looking over Liam’s shoulder at where Louis and Niall are talking, heads close together and voices low like theirs. He wonders if they’re talking about the same thing. “Just like, maybe don’t reject Niall tonight. He’s really vulnerable right now. He’s going through his divorce and he doesn’t like to talk about it but I think he’s bothered by it still, and none of his dates have been working out for him. I don’t want to make him sad.”

“No, of course not. Yeah, I totally get that.”

“Okay, cool,” Harry says, smiling at Liam. “Come on, let’s go join them before they get suspicious.”

“You two done plotting then,” Niall asks, falling into step next to Liam. Harry frowns and hopes that Niall doesn’t take it personally when Liam ultimately rejects him for his best friend.

“We weren’t plotting,” Liam says. “I just wanted to ask him something.”

“I’m sure you did,” Louis says, grinning at Liam.

Harry rolls his eyes because could they be any more obvious? Niall is standing right there, do they not care about his feelings? Did Liam already forget what they just talked about?

“We were. Besides, I saw you two with your heads pressed together.”

“Well, we were plotting,” Louis says, waggling his eyebrows. “We were talking about dessert. Do you two want any?”

“No, I’m stuffed,” Harry says, patting his stomach for emphasis.”

“Yeah, Lou, not tonight,” Niall moans, shaking his head. “We just ate a ton. No one wants dessert.”

“Liam does, don’t you?” Louis asks and all heads turn to look at Liam.

“Me?” Liam asks, pointing at himself. Louis nods. “Oh. Um. Right. Yeah, sure. I’d love dessert.”

“Well, we want dessert, you two don’t, I guess this is where we split,” Louis says, frowning at Harry. “Niall, I’ll call you tomorrow. Come on, Liam.”

Liam grins and waves at Harry before the two of them rush off down the street in the opposite direction, their arms linked together. Harry can see Liam laughing and as much as he wants to be angry, he can’t. One of his best friends is happy so why should be angry? Aside from the fact that it is at the expense of his other best friend, the one that is laughing uncontrollably beside him… Wait.

Harry frowns as he turns to look at Niall. The poor thing, he’s so heartbroken that he’s laughing, the only thing he can do to hide his real emotions.

“I’m really sorry about that, Niall. I told Liam not to do that in front of you.”

“What are you talking about?” Niall wheezes out, brushing the tears out of his eyes. “This is a fucking riot. We both just got rejected by the other’s best friend. We can’t even get the people we care about to date each other, we’re hopeless.”

“Wait. You’re laughing because you think this is funny?”

“Why else would I be laughing?” Niall asks, looking at Harry like he’s grown another head. “You can’t possibly think that I had a great time at dinner. Liam’s nice and all, had a lot of great stories, but we didn’t click.”

Harry blinks at him and stammers over his words as he tries to think of what to say. Ultimately he gives up, sighing as he shrugs.

“We really are hopeless, aren’t we?”

Niall grins at him and throws an arm over his shoulder. Harry wraps his around Niall’s waist, allowing the other boy to guide him down the street. If Niall’s okay with Liam and Louis wandering off then he won’t worry about it, at least not yet.

>>>>

The months pass quickly after that, the snow on the ground melts and the temperatures begin to rise and rise and rise until the city is almost unbearably hot, much like it always is before summer begins.

Harry continues to go out on dates; none of them stick until…Xander.He’s a sports player that Harry meets late April, with a quiet demeanor and subtle sense of humor. He’s nice enough and Harry has a great time with him. They’ve only gone out a few times, their fifth date is later in the evening but Harry thinks it could work, maybe.

Niall’s met a boy; someone named Zaynor something like that. Harry can’t remember, only knows that Niall met him through a friend at a party and that they hit it off almost immediately. They’re not serious, at least not in Harry’s opinion. But Harry will get to find out, he guesses, since Niall’s bringing him to Louis and Liam’s moving in together party.

As it turns out, the only people who have had a successful love connection worth noting in Harry’s mind are Louis and Liam. The pair has been inseparable since they were introduced, choosing to move in together a mere four months since meeting. It’s too soon, in Harry’s opinion, but Liam is his best friend and he knows that he puts his whole heart into everything he does, especially relationships, so he’s happy for them. He’s happy and supportive, as a good friend should be.

“I don’t see why we should be getting them anything,” Niall says, frowning at a particularly ugly vase in the home decorating shop that they’re in. “They’re simply taking all of Liam’s stuff and all of Louis’ stuff and shoving it into one apartment. Why should we give them even more crap?”

“Because that’s what you do for a housewarming party,” Harry says. “But I’m not sure any of this stuff is their taste.”

“Well, keep the receipt. Louis will want to return it if he hates it.”

“Liam wouldn’t let him do that.”

“Are you really under the impression that Liam controls Louis?”

“I don’t think either of them control the other,” Harry says. “I’m just saying that Liam wouldn’t return a gift someone bought him, even if he hated it. So yeah, we could get them anything.”

“What about this?” Niall asks, pointing towards a cookie jar that’s shaped like a rooster. “They have one that’s shaped like a cow, if you think that might match their theme better.”

“Do they even have a theme?”

“Yeah, but I think most people would call it a clusterfuck.”

“Actually, most people would say they just don’t have a theme together, as a couple. But you’re rude.”

“I’m not rude. Oh shit, no. I’m getting them this,” Niall says, shoving around some of the other cookie jars so that he can reach into the back. He pulls out a ceramic Hulk and grins, moving to hold the jar under his arm. “They’re both going to love that. So now that I’m the favorite friend, what are you going to get them?”

“I don’t know, I was thinking about getting them…” Harry looks around, trying to find something. There has to be something here that he could get Liam and Louis, something that they’ll both like and maybe – if he’s really lucky – they’ll use. “Fuck, I don’t know, Niall.” He turns back around to see Niall looking at someone, or someones, rather. There’s a couple a little ways away, shopping together. “Niall, are you okay?”

“That’s Bressie.”

“Bressie? I don’t know a Br- Oh. Oh god,” Harry mutters, reaching out and placing his hand on Niall’s wrist. “What should we do? Should we run?” Harry glances around and tries to find the quickest route that’ll get them out of here. It’ll be difficult, Bressie is huge. His arm looks to be about as big as Harry’s stomach, standing a full foot taller than them both. God, he hasn’t seen the men that Niall is into before but wow. Wow.

“No, he’s seen us. He’s coming over here.”

“What should we do?”

“Niall, hi. Um, how are you?”

“Fine,” Niall mumbles, biting down on the corner on his lip. His hands are balled into fists, tugging on the hem of his shirt. “Yeah, fine.”

The man – Bressie, Harry assumes – nods his head and smiles awkwardly. “Right, um. You remember Laura,” he says, motioning towards the girl standing next to him. Now that they’re closer, Harry notices that they’re holding hands and he frowns, glancing at a stone-faced Niall. It’s the deadest he’s ever looked in his eyes, normally so vibrant and full of life. Shit.

Niall blinks and turns to look at Harry before realization dawns. “Shit, sorry. Um, this is Harry. Harry um…”

“Styles,” Harry finishes, grinning. He doesn’t make a move to shake either of their hands, for Niall’s sake. He’s a good friend, after all.

“Right, well. I saw you across the aisle, just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” Niall snaps and Bressie nods, turning to look at the girl. Harry’s already forgotten her name. He doesn’t really care. He’d have forgotten Bressie’s if he wasn’t married to Niall for so long, if he didn’t have a deep rooted history with his best friend, someone very important to him.

“Alright, well…it was nice seeing you. Take care of yourself,” Bressie says. He looks at Niall for a moment, almost sadly before they turn to leave. Harry holds his breath as he watches them go, turning towards Niall slowly to study him, to try and figure out how he should be acting right now. If it were him…well, he’s not sure what he would do.

“Are you okay?”

“He looked awful,” Niall says, his eyes still a little glassy as he stares at the vacant space in front of him. “Awful, right? He looked horrible. I almost can’t believe it. Didn’t he seem…just…not good?”

“I don’t know, Niall, this is the first time I’ve ever met him.”

“Then just me. He’—I mean, it’s so fake. That bullshit smile. He’s so—god. He looked awful. Truly awful, it’s almost sad. I think he’s lost muscle definition.”

“Well, if that’s losing muscle definition then sign me up,” Harry stammers because wow. That guy was huge.

Niall laughs and finally turns to look at him. His bottom lip is red from nibbling on it and his cheeks are starting to pink up again so Harry breathes out because that’s a good sign.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Harry asks, because like he said, he’s a good friend.

“Perfect. Now, come on, let’s find you something cheesy to go with the Hulk.”

>>>>

“You’re both early,” Louis shouts from somewhere inside the apartment. Harry sees him as he runs from one room to the next, carrying a stack of plates.

“Are we really?” Harry asks, looking at his watch. “Should we leave and come back?”

“I’m not leaving,” Niall says.

Liam laughs and shakes his head, pulling the door open wider and letting them in. “Actually, you two could help us settle an argument,” he says. “And you can set those down in the kitchen with Lou. You didn’t have to get us anything.”

“We felt like we did,” Harry says, loud enough so Louis and Liam can’t hear Niall mumbling how he didn’t actually want to give them anything anyway. “So what’s this argument about?”

“It’s stupid and Liam is wrong,” Louis says, already ripping the paper off their gifts. “Oh sick.” He nods approvingly at the Hulk and hands it to Liam, who takes it to the sink to wash. He smiles at Harry’s Batman apron, already knowing that it’s more for Liam and less for him.

“These are great,” Liam says, grinning. “And anyway, we were arguing about what color we should paint the walls. I say that we leave them white, it leaves more room for decorating. You don’t really have to worry about a color scheme with every single thing you own and if they’ll clash with the walls.”

“And I say white is boring and I’m not living in a prison.”

“Are you even allowed to paint your walls?” Harry asks, looking back and forth between the two. “Most apartments don’t allow that.”

“Ours does, as long as they’re white when we move out, which is another reason that white is a good choice, because it’s less work.”

“And less fun.”

“It’ll definitely be more work now that you’ve already filled it with stuff.”

Louis sighs, rolling his eyes at Harry. “I didn’t say that we needed to have them painted by this weekend. I just think it would be nice, eventually to put a little color. I’m not talking like, neon green. I just think it would be nice, maybe like, on the far wall, where we have the bookshelf and the entertainment center to put a color, like blue. Just one blue wall to pull it all together, that’s all I’m asking.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad,” Harry agrees. “You could even paint your bedroom. Or the bathrooms, those are always lovely when they’re painted.”

“What does it even matter?” Niall says and all three heads snap in his direction, staring at him. “Paint colors. What the fuck do they matter?”

“Niall,” Harry starts and Niall waves him off, sitting up straighter.

“No. What does it matter? Do you think you’re going to care about paint colors when you’re packing up all your shit and trying to decide who actually owns what? Like that cookie jar. You’re going to spend hours and hundreds of dollars on a lawyer to figure out who owns that cookie jar.”

“Why would we need a lawyer?” Liam asks frowning.

“Niall, can you not do this right now?”

“Do what?” He asks, voice going high. “I’m trying to help my friends. My best friend and his boyfriend understand that absolutely none of this matters. Not this apartment, not this stupid chair or your damn paint.”

“Is something bothering you, Niall?” Louis asks, his eyes narrowed.

“I’ll handle this,” Harry says, grabbing Niall by the arm and tugging him out of the chair. He drags him through the apartment, back to the front door and out into the hallway. He pulls him down the stairs and outside, dragging him to a tree that’s out of view of Liam and Louis’ apartment. “What the hell was that, Niall?”

“Nothing,” he mumbles, shrugging. “I was helping.”

“You were being an ass.”

“I’m being realistic. They need to hear that.”

“No. They’re happy and right now, they’re in love and that’s what matters.”

“None of that matters. You think it does, you put all your time and money and attention into shit like that, trying to make the perfect life with someone and then it doesn’t work out. It doesn't matter and they need to know that,” Niall shouts, huffing out an angry puff of air.

Harry closes his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair because he’s not going to yell at him. He’s not going to. “Is this because you saw Bressie?” He opens his eyes and sees Niall staring down at the ground, his jaw clenched. “It is, isn’t it?”

“Our divorce is final,” Niall says, voice low. “The ink just dried on our papers and he’s rubbing his girlfriend in my face.”

“Oh,” Harry mumbles. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It obviously does if you’re going to rain on your best friend’s parade. Louis is happy and you just tried to ruin it.”

“No, I mean that it doesn’t matter to you.”

“What?” Harry scoffs, looking at Niall like he’s out of his mind. And he is if he thinks that Harry doesn’t care about something that affects him. “Why in the world would you think that?”

“Because you don’t care about relationships and you sure as hell don’t have any emotions about them, especially ones that don’t work out. I mean look at you and Nick!”

“What about me and Nick?”

“I have known you since the two of your called it quits and I’ve not seen one lick of emotion out of you about it. You don’t care.”

“I care. I care a lot. And just because you haven’t seen me upset about it, that doesn't mean it hasn’t happened. I’ve had my fair share of nights where I’ve been upset about our break up, so fuck you if you think I’m some emotionally stunted…asshole.”

“You are,” Niall fires back, glaring at him. “You don’t care about anything, so why would you care about this? Why would you care that I’m a newly divorced…person.”

“Niall, you need to learn how to handle your emotions and to channel them in appropriate ways because right now, you’re acting like a dick,” Harry says, folding his arms over his chest. “And you need to figure out how to get a filter, your mouth keeps running and it’s getting annoying.”

“Oh right, okay. Because you’re one to talk.”

“I am, actually. I don’t go around trying to hurt people just because I’m still heartbroken over my break up that happened a year ago.”

“If I’m the one that’s heartbroken, why don’t you tell me how your new relationship is going, huh? How is that boyfriend of yours?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I know,” Niall shouts. “And have you slept with anyone since Nick?”

“What the hell do you care who I sleep with?” Harry asks, glaring. “Do you really think that sleeping with someone new helps you get over someone else? Is that how you think this works, Niall? Tell me, how has that been working for you? You’ve slept with what, half the people in Manhattan by now, I’m sure, so tell me. How are you handling finding out your divorce is final?”

“Are you finished?” Niall asks, staring at his fingernails, lifting them up to his mouth and biting at them.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“So can I say something?” Harry huffs out a breath and nods. “I’m—I’m sorry. I’m not trying to take it out on you. It just sucks.”

Harry sighs and holds his arms out, pulling Niall in for a hug. He holds onto him tightly, shoving his nose into Niall’s hair and breathing him in. “I know that you’re over him, or as much as you can be over anyone you spent that much time with, but just—you’ll be alright, you know.”

“Yeah,” Niall sighs, breath fanning out against Harry’s neck.

“If it makes you feel better, I’m sure that he thought we were boyfriends?” Niall laughs and pulls away from the hug, grinning at Harry, fully and happily for the first time since he found the cookie jar earlier in the day. “And I might not have arms that could crush a head, but I’m pretty damn attractive.”

“The most attractive,” Niall corrects, pressing a kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth. “Alright, come on. I need to go beg Louis for forgiveness.”

“Tell him about the divorce and do that thing with your eyes, he can never seem to resist that.”

>>>>

Harry’s halfway through a bottle of beer when Xander arrives, dressed up with a nervous smile. It’s the first time he’s meeting Harry’s friends, and while it’s probably way too soon, Harry’s excited. He waves him over and loops their arms together, introducing him to everyone before they settle on the couch together.

Niall’s Zayn showed up shortly after Louis forgave Niall, sighing because it really is hard to resist Niall’s apologetic face. It’s unfair but it works for him, so Harry can’t be angry at him for it.

Harry should be focused on Xander and even worrying about Louis and Liam, who are fluttering around the room to try and talk to everyone, more so Liam than Louis, who finds an old dart board and hangs it up on the wall, blowing Liam a kiss when he glares at him. But Harry finds himself worrying about Niall, hoping that he’s over what happened earlier, hoping that he’s not trapped inside his head and going over and over what happened with him and Bressie through their relationship and it’s unraveling. Mostly he worries about the boy with Niall.

Zayn had seemed nice enough when Niall introduced them. Nice and pretty and happy and charming, much like Niall. But he’s not exactly like Niall, he doesn't think. Harry knows Niall and he knows the positive, glowing energy that radiates off of him and it’s not there with Zayn. And maybe that’s why he’s worried about Zayn, because he doesn’t shine, not like Niall does, not like someone with Niall should. In his opinion, of course, which should count for something. He is the best friend, after all.

Zayn’s quieter, calmer and more relaxed, content to stand at the edge of the room and watch, while Niall inserts himself in the middle of it all, his beer sloshing around as he tries to throw darts at the board.

But maybe there’s nothing he should be worried about. After all, Niall seems to like Zayn and he is nice, so that’s all Harry can ask for. But still…he keeps an eye on them.

>>>>

Xander breaks up with him two weeks later, telling Harry that he seems…distracted. It feels a bit odd to be dumped by someone you weren’t properly with in the first place. But that was probably one of their problems, Harry didn’t think they were together and Xander did. Harry thought they were still dating, still trying to figure out if they wanted to cross over to boyfriends that go out on dates, rather than two people that go out on dates exclusively. Whatever, it makes sense in his head.

Harry lies when he tells Niall about it. He tells him that it was him who called it off, said he knew that Xander wasn’t a permanent kind of guy. He just had that feeling about him. Niall smiles sadly at him and pets Harry hair through an entire movie, which helps.

A week after that Zayn and Niall call it quits. Apparently Harry had their relationship wrong from the start, something about it being more of a ‘let’s hook up until we find other options’ type situation, with Zayn finding an option with another pretty blond. Apparently he has a type, go figure.

It’s a month of heartache, but it doesn’t stop there.

It’s late on a Thursday evening when Harry finds himself lying in bed, thumbing through his phone and he’s not looking for anything, just trying to kill time before he goes to sleep for the night when he sees it, the engagement announcement of Nick Grimshaw and his new boyfriend – fiancé, what-the-fuck-ever. They’re happy and smiling with a glinting ring on someone’s hand.

Harry’s vision goes a bit blurry and it’s hard to tell who is who, which smiling face belongs to Nick and which one belongs to some guy named Michael. Harry doesn’t—no. He remembers Michael. He was one of Nick’s friends. Or well, maybe not just a friend…

Harry throws his phone across the room and screams, trying to fight down the surge of emotions threatening to spill out of him. He needs to remain calm. He can’t—he won’t let this get to him.

No. He’s not sure he can do that. He scrambles out of bed, the prickling feeling of tears forming behind his eyes making him grab his phone off the floor and calling a familiar number, the number of a person that he so desperately needs right now.

“Haz, I’m making a chicken right now, what’s up?”

“Niall,” Harry hiccups and he hears Niall curse. “I need you to—Can you come over? Please.”

“Yeah, what’s wrong? Something happen?”

“Nick’s getting married. I just saw the announcement on Facebook. He’s getting married.”

“Shit,” Niall mutters.

>>>>

Harry’s finished crying by the time Niall arrives, a soft smile on his face as he holds up a bottle of tequila and a carton of ice cream. Harry smiles back at him and takes the offerings, carrying them to the kitchen. He’s too upset to eat and not upset enough to drink.

“So what happened?” Niall asks, following Harry from the kitchen to the living room, dropping down on the couch next to him, sitting closer than necessary, like he’s scared what outburst of emotion Harry’s going to show next. And he should be, he feels wildly unpredictable right now.

“I was lying in bed, minding my own business when I saw a picture of them together. I didn’t think anything of it, until I saw the word ‘engaged’. That’s when I looked closer and…well, you know,” Harry says, waving his hands around. “He’s engaged.”

Niall frowns at him, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder. “Bit of a shock, I bet.”

“Big shock,” Harry says. “And you see, the thing is, I’m over him. I am. I see his pictures from time to time and I know that I’m over him, that I don’t want to be with him any longer. But he’s engaged.”

“You have every right to be upset about that.”

“That’s not why I’m upset.”

“Then why are you upset, Harry?”

Harry sighs and feels the wave emotion from earlier, the roll of his stomach and the tingling in his nose. He breathes out slowly, trying to calm himself down. “Nick and I broke up because he didn’t want to get married. I thought that meant period,” Harry says, looking at Niall sadly. “But I think he just meant that he didn’t want to get married to me.”

“Oh no, that’s not true,” Niall says, gripping Harry’s shoulder tightly as he shakes his head. “No, no. That’s not it at all.”

“Niall, it is. It is. I poured my heart out to him, told him everything that I wanted for my future and he said that he didn’t want that. He never wanted any of that with me. He never loved me. He didn’t love me even a little bit.”

“Harry, come on. It’s been over a year, you know, nearly two soon. A lot can change during that time. People change, that’s all this is,” Niall says and Harry shakes his head, stubborn and self-loathing. “Harry, you said that you’re over him, right? And that you don’t want him back?”

“Yeah, I don’t want him back.”

“Then forget about him. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I’m emotionless, remember? You said so yourself.”

“You’re showing emotion now, so I guess you’re proving me wrong.”

“And I’m stubborn.”

“You are, but isn’t everyone?” Niall smiles at him and lifts his hand from Harry’s shoulder to his cheek, stroking his thumb along the skin gently. “Don’t cry over Nick, he’s not worth it.”

“You’re surprisingly gentle, when you want to be,” Harry tells him and Niall laughs, tugging at a curl. “Thanks for coming, Niall.”

“Wouldn’t be anywhere else, love.” He leans forward and kisses Harry’s cheek, pulling far enough away that Harry’s eyes have to cross to see him properly.

Harry tugs him in closer, holding onto him tightly for a moment. And he’s not sure what makes him do it, if it’s the charge of emotions in him or the way that Niall’s stroking the soft hairs behind his ears, making his skin bump up, but he kisses him. It’s not like the kisses they’ve shared before, soft and short and sweet. This one is slow and hesitant, Harry gently seeing what he can do before Niall shoves him away.

Niall doesn't, he pulls Harry in closer, opening his mouth up to deepen the kiss. Harry cups his jaw and presses into him, winding the other hand around his waist, tugging their bodies together.

Harry’s head feels fuzzy, in a pleasant and light kind of way. Niall’s lips are soft and smooth, dragging over his wonderfully, in just the way he always imagined they would with skilled tongues and gentle touches.

He feels himself being pressed back into the couch, Niall’s hands dragging down his sides and to his pajama bottoms. Harry’s back arches and he clears his mind, losing himself to the moment as Niall begins to push his shirt up. Harry breaks away from the kiss to pull off his own shirt and then Niall’s, pressing their mouths together again as soon as he can.

And just like with the kissing, Niall’s body is soft and smooth, calloused hands touching Harry in places he never imagined he would, opening him up and preparing him for more. Everything feels like it’s on fire, Niall’s touch electrifying and he holds onto Harry’s hips when he pushes in, slow and deep, the steady drag of his cock inside of Harry making him cry out.

In that moment, Harry feels a pang of jealousy for every person who got to experience this before him, to feel Niall as he is now. But he has him now and Harry closes his eyes, dragging his nails down Niall’s back as he kisses him, as Niall dicks into him and makes his toes curl.

>>>>

Niall’s there when Harry wakes up in the morning, standing at the foot of his bed and putting on the clothes from the night before that they brought in there before they went to sleep. He wasn’t sure what to expect, wasn’t sure if Niall was going to run out on him like he’s known to do or if he’d stay. And he did. He’s here.

But it doesn’t appear to be for long. He’s shoving his phone and his wallet into his pocket, tiptoeing around the room for his shoes.

“Are you leaving?” Harry asks and Niall jumps, tripping as he slides a shoe on.

“Yeah, I need to head back home for a change of clothes. I have work in a couple hours and so do you, both of us need to get dressed and ready. So yeah, I’m going home,” Niall says.

“I’m sure I’ve got clothes that you could borrow, if you wanted them. It’s not a problem.”

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t expecting to spend the night so all of my shit is at home. Work shit. Obviously my other things are there, like personal belongings, but I need some paperwork for work, so yeah. I have to go home,” Niall sighs, flicking his hair out of his eyes. It’s almost completely brown now. It would be, if he’d just cut the tips off. “I’ll call you after work, we’ll get dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry mumbles, watching as Niall smiles at him. He pats his hands at his sides and then strides across the room, kissing Harry quickly on the cheek before he turns to go.

Harry waits until he hears the door of his apartment shut before he screams into his pillow, praying that Niall can’t hear him from the other side. Niall left. He ran out. He doesn’t need papers for work and Harry knows when he lying, knows by the pinks of his ears. He’s not an idiot.

“Fuck,” Harry mutters, grabbing his phone off the bedside table. He’ll call Liam. Liam’s a love genius these days, faring much better than Harry when it comes to finding someone.

There’s a quiet moan in Harry’s ear, the telltale sign of someone waking up and he flinches, almost forgetting the time.

“Harry?”

“Shit. Yeah, sorry. I didn’t look at the time before I called.”

“Mm, yeah. Haven’t got a clue what time it is.”

“It’s early. Too early, I’m so sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“No, I’m already awake. Everything okay?”

Harry sighs and shakes his head, even though he knows that Liam can’t see him. “Niall came over last night. I found out that Nick got engaged and I was upset and I needed someone here. I didn’t want to bother you, so I called him.”

“And now you’re choosing to call me?”

“No. I um, last night when Niall was here…we kind of had sex.”

It’s silent on the other end of the line for a long time. Harry counts nine breaths before he hears anything, the sound of Louis in the background grumbling about how people don’t know how to respect sleep anymore. And then it’s silent, followed by, “You had sex with Niall?”

“Yeah,” Harry admits, biting down on his bottom lip.

“Harry, that’s great. Are you kidding? You two are perfect for each other. Oh god,” Liam gushes. “Honestly, you belong together. Lou and I have been waiting for this to happen. Oh god. I’m really sorry to hear about Nick, but I’m so happy for you.”

“No, Liam,” Harry whines, lying back and covering his eyes with his hands. “This isn’t good. Niall doesn’t want me.”

“What are you talking about? I see how you two are, he totally wants you.”

“No he doesn’t, he left.”

“He left?”

“Yeah, he said that he had to hurry home to get papers for work and he couldn’t stay. He was fumbling over his words and he wasn’t making any sense. I don’t know,” Harry sighs. “I’m so embarrassed right now. What do you think I should do?”

“Well, how do you feel about him?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admits.

Liam sighs and Harry braces himself, ready to hear it. “You need to figure that out. If you’re not attracted to him in that way, if you don’t want to give it another go or whatever, then let them him know that he has nothing to worry about. But,” Liam starts, taking a deep breath. “If you do want more, then you should talk to him about that too.”

Harry groans like a child and listens to Liam laughs. He’s not at all helpful.

>>>>

They schedule to have dinner a few nights later. Harry gets put on a new story at work, so he ends up working later than he usually does. Niall claims to have stuff going on at his end as well, but Harry thinks that’s probably a load of shit. Still, he doesn’t call him out on it.

It gives Harry some time to think about what happened, to try and process the fact that he had sex with his best friend. There are a lot of thoughts floating around his head. Did he want it? Of course he did, he just didn't realize it until that moment, when the opportunity was there. Should he want it? Did Niall want it? How does Niall feel about? How does he feel about it? So many questions and so few answers, but that’s what dinner is for, to talk about it, he thinks.

Harry’s head feels like he’s under water, too many thoughts and questions. It’s almost too much for him. Even more so when he realizes that he has to tell Niall that it was a mistake, that they never should have had sex to begin with. It’s the right thing to do. It’s the only thing to do.

Niall ran out on him shortly after sex, he hasn’t spoken to Harry much this week. It’s obvious that he needs to hear Harry say that it’s a mistake.

Harry just hopes that he can be convincing.

Across from him, Niall fiddles with the items on the table as they sit together in silence. They’re at Niall’s favorite pizza place, the one with the garlic parmesan breadsticks that he loves so much. It’s awkward and it’s quiet and Harry knows that Niall’s waiting for him to talk. Or maybe he’s waiting for Niall to talk. Who knows anymore?

“I think it was a mistake,” Harry blurts out, wincing as he says it. Niall blinks and looks at him, blue eyes clouded with confusion. “Um…the other night when we, uh. It was a mistake.”

Niall breathes out and visibly relaxes at that, a smile spreading on his face as he laughs. “I’m so glad you agreed.”

Harry frowns, brows pulling together as he watches Niall. He doesn’t know why, but a small part of him was hoping that Niall wouldn’t agree with him. He had hoped, in vain, that Niall wouldn’t think it didn’t mean anything, because it meant something. Harry’s not sure what something that is but he knows that it did. And maybe if Niall had agreed he’d be able to put his finger on it.

>>>>

Harry never thought the day would come that seeing Niall became too much for him, but it does. Unlike his friend, Harry can’t stop thinking about the night they shared together. It haunts him, a flurry of what ifs floating around his head on a near constant. So weeks go by where they don’t see each other, where conversations are limited and they keep everything to a minimum. It’s all strained and difficult, like Niall would rather have his teeth pulled than talk to Harry. And that’s fine, whatever.

Harry’s not that keen to talk to Niall either, if he’s being honest. He always knew that Niall had an…odd idea of what sex could mean for a person, along with post sex etiquette. So Harry should have known that Niall would be more than alright with tossing his feelings aside and concluding their friendship a bust. Or whatever he’s thinking.

Weeks turn to months, almost two and Harry realizes that neither of them have picked up the phone during that time, both of them choosing to ignore the other. So the sex didn’t mean anything and neither did the friendship. Or at least that’s what Harry is getting out of this whole thing. And that’s totally cool; they hated each other in the beginning. Well…Harry hated Niall, anyway.

Still…he thinks about him from time to time, like now, when he’s sitting next to Liam in a tiny coffee shop, trying to figure out what to do with his face.

“Well, are you going to say anything?”

“Yeah… I just. Wow. Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. I’ve thought about it a lot, you know, and I think it’s the best that is ever going to happen to me,” Liam says and Harry nods because that’s good.

“I can’t believe you and Louis are getting married after not even being together a full year,” Harry says but he’s smiling because it’s so Liam that it hurts, to feel so deeply that he’d propose so soon. Louis is going to say yes, of course he is, because they’re disgusting like that. “But if you’re happy then I’m happy. When are you going to ask him?”

“I already did,” Liam admits, biting down on his bottom lip. “He said yes and we’re going to get married in a month.”

“A month? Liam, do you have any idea how long it takes to plan a wedding?”

“Yes, I do, but we’re not worried about that. We don’t need the show, nor do we want it. We just want each other. So next month at the courthouse, that’s when we decided. It’s long enough for both of our sisters to find dresses, and our mothers.”

“Does this mean that you’re going to need to go tux shopping?” Harry asks, winking at Liam as he takes a sip of his coffee. “And I’m surprised that you’re getting married some place like the courthouse, I’d figure you’d want something huge.”

“Huge is for the reception. Niall knows some people and he’s going to get us a place, since it’s such short notice and everything.”

“Niall, huh,” mutters Harry, staring at his cup with more interest than he actually has. “I’m assuming he’s going?”

“Yeah, of course. He’s Louis’ best friend. He’s the man of honor.”

“The best man,” Harry corrects. “And when are you going to ask me to be your best man?”

“I wasn’t going to, I figured you’d just assume to role of man of honor.”

“Best man, stop calling it man of honor. Isn’t that what they call war veterans? I’ve never been to war.”

Liam sighs and shrugs. “But you’ll do it, won’t you?”

“Yeah, of course I will. You know that I’d never let anyone else have the honor. And no, that wasn’t a reason why it’s called man of honor, wipe that look off your face,” Harry laughs, gently shoving at Liam’s shoulder. “But um, what about dates? You think Niall is going to bring anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Liam says. “I know he’s seeing that Zayn guy again. Or maybe not seeing, since I think they just saw each other, but he could ask him. Louis doubts it, though.”

“He doubts it?”

“Yeah, he says that Zayn is just a fling. But he says that it’s okay, since Niall’s just a fling for Zayn, too.”

“Huh,” Harry mumbles.

“What about you, are you seeing anyone?”

“Me?” Harry laughs, pointing at himself. “Are you crazy? Of course I’m not seeing anyone, no. No one at all.” Unlike some people he knows, he’s not ready to find someone else to sleep with.

“But you’ll still go, right? Even without a date?” Liam asks, biting down on his bottom lip. “Even if Niall will be there and he might be there with someone else, at the reception, that is, we’re not allowing many people to watch the wedding itself. Definitely not any dates that we don’t know.”

“Liam,” Harry says, resting his hand on his friend’s arm, smiling at him softly. “Of course I’ll be there; you don’t have anything to worry about.”

>>>>

Louis is bridezilla, or whatever the groom alternative is, for the next month. And for a wedding at the courthouse, it’s too much stress, in Harry’s opinion. They’re both wearing simple black suits, with minor touches to show their personalities. Like Louis’ pants are rolled up at the ankle, he’s not wearing a tie, and his jacket only has one button. Liam, on the other hand, his jacket has two buttons and they’re all done up, with a vest and a tie. But it’s them and it works and Harry is so happy for his best friend that it hurts, like his chest could explode because he really is just so happy.

Harry has never seen Liam smile as much as he has since meeting Louis and he’s jealous and thrilled and amazed all at once. Liam has everything, the happily ever after that he’s always wanted, that he’s always chased after.

And there’s a bit of irony to it all when Harry thinks about all the relationships that Liam had that last for years, with people that he’s known for ages. Yet, here he is, marrying a boy that he’s known for ten months, almost eleven.

Watching them both exchange vows fills him up, makes his eyes water with happiness. But he doesn’t cry, not like Liam’s mother, who is properly wailing from her little bench.

Niall’s standing next to Louis, hands held behind his back as he bounces on the balls of his feet, watching the pair. It’s the first time that Harry has seen him since their dinner together, the one where Harry – he’s pretty sure – lied to him. The one where Niall – he’s absolutely sure – ruined everything.

It feels like a punch to the gut, to see him now. His hair is fully brown, dark against his pale skin. It makes his blue eyes shine brighter than ever, almost too much for Harry’s heart to handle.

He has to close his eyes and breathe out slowly, counting backwards from ten, because while he should be devoting his attention fully to his best friend, he’s not and he can’t. Harry’s mind keeps drifting, keeps wandering off to another world where this isn’t Liam and Louis’ wedding but his own. 

And it’s not hard to imagine at all because Niall is standing directly in front of him, smiling softly at him when their eyes connect. It’s right, in that little smile where Harry loses himself completely and falls down the rabbit hole into a place he shouldn't go.

That place being the world where he’s marrying Niall, where Niall’s slipping the ring on his finger with glassy eyes, promising Harry a lifetime of happiness, no matter what life tries to throw at them.

He has to blink back new tears now, ones that fight to get out, because that’s not a life that’s ever going to be a reality for him, at least not in this world.

>>>>

“Harry, your speech was beautiful,” Karen Payne says, gripping onto Harry’s face so that she can kiss his cheeks, her eyes glistening with tears. She’s been crying all night and Harry feels bad for her, but then again, not really. She’s so happy, so overwhelmingly happy that her crying is just a sign of that, a physical declaration that she couldn’t be any happier that her son is marrying the love of his life. “You made Liam so joyful that you’d go up there and talk about him. And me. Where is your mother? Is she here?”

“No, she couldn’t make it, but she sends her love,” Harry says, smiling as best he can. Karen’s grip is tight, making it hard to move his face.

“Aw, well. Eat up, Harry. You look like you’re losing weight,” she says, patting his stomach before she flutters off to greet more guests. Harry sighs and shakes his head, grabbing a champagne flute from a man who walks past.

The reception hall that they’re in is nice, almost too nice. A wedding gift from Niall, he’s heard. A place that he probably used one of his sport star connections to rent for the day because there’s not a chance in hell that he could have gotten this place otherwise. It’s a banquet hall, with high, coffered ceilings and archways, with windows that pull in the city lights. The hall is filled with round tables covered in white cloth with giant bouquets as centerpieces, white and purple orchids in tall glass vases.

It’s the nicest wedding reception that Harry has been to since his mom married his step-dad. And that wasn’t even that nice, compared to this. Louis and Liam’s look like they’re royalty.

“You look nice,” says a familiar voice near Harry’s ear and he sighs, feeling his shackles rise. “Haven’t seen much of you lately.”

“So you noticed,” Harry says, clipped and annoyed. It’s been ages since they’ve last spoken, since the dinner they had together and he’s not going to let Niall make it out to seem like that’s all by Harry’s choice and like Harry’s the one who fucked everything up. “And thanks, I guess.”

“Harry, do you really think that I wouldn’t notice you weren’t speaking to me?”

“I wasn’t the only one avoiding communication, but no,” Harry tells him, shaking his head. “I didn’t think you’d notice or care.”

“Harry, you’re my best friend, of course I noticed,” Niall sighs, running his fingers through his dark hair. “Is this about that night?” Harry turns his nose up at that, looking away it. “So it is. I knew it was. I thought you said that it was a mistake?”

“It was a mistake.”

“Then why would you choose not to talk to me?”

“Because Niall. Because. Okay? Because.”

“That’s literally not even a reason, Harry,” Niall says, shaking his head. He looks tired but that’s his own problem. “If you can’t talk to me then I—“

“You’ll what? Continue to ignore me as well? Don’t act like my phone has been ringing all this time, Niall, because it hasn’t. You’ve avoided me just as much as I’ve avoided you, so don’t play innocent with me, okay? Just don’t. Don’t,” Harry grits out, fists clenched at his side.

“I wasn’t lying to you when I told you that I was busy, I was. I am. But then next thing I knew it had been ages, you hadn’t tried to talk to me so I figured you didn’t want to, but that doesn’t mean I understand why,” Niall says, blue eyes shining in the sparkling light of the reception. “Why can’t we get passed what happened? I mean, are you going to let this ruin our friendship forever?”

“Forever? Niall, it just happened. We just had sex.”

“Months ago, Harry. It was months ago,” Niall sighs.

“Alright fine, months ago. Whatever,” Harry says, grabbing Niall’s arm and pulling him towards the edge of the reception hall. They’re arguing next to a table where Louis’ great grandmother has been watching them, sipping her coffee. Harry’s not sure if she can hear them but he doesn’t care, this is private, meant just for them. “Listen Niall, you’re the one who wants to act like what happened didn’t mean anything.”

“I never said it didn’t mean anything. But I am saying that it doesn’t have to mean everything.”

“Yeah it does,” Harry says, his voice strong and firm. “It does, Niall. It can’t mean nothing because it really does mean everything.”

Niall looks at him and frowns, running his fingers through his hair. He breathes out slowly and stares out of the window behind Harry, watching the city go on like it always does, like it always will.

“What do you want from me, Harry?” Niall finally asks, voice low as he turns back to look into Harry’s green eyes.

“Nothing,” Harry mutters. “You’ve done enough.”

“You know,” Niall says, shaking his head, his eyes bright. “I didn’t go over there that night to sleep with you. I didn’t. But you were giving me this look. I can’t even explain it, but your eyes were big and green and shining, and you just made me feel something in that moment. And it happened. And I’m sorry that it’s not playing out the way you want it to.”

He looks at Harry and Harry swallows, giving him one final look before he leaves him. He doesn’t look back, just grabs another champagne flute and drains it, then drains his first one before setting them at a random table.

>>>>

Bringing his Christmas tree back to his place without someone’s help is harder than Harry expected it would be. He spends most of the walk back to his apartment panting, leaning against the side of the building and glaring at his tree. He picked a smaller one this year, another Charlie Brown that wouldn’t have gotten picked by anyone else.

It goes in the same spot it always does, right in front of the window so everyone down on the street can see it. He takes his time putting the lights on and then the ornaments, covering the tree with the tiny glass spheres. He’s grabbing a star out of the box when his phone rings, breaking into the silence of the room.

Harry gets up to check it and sees that it’s Niall.

It takes Harry a while to warm up to listening to it, not until after he’s put the star on the tree and made himself a cup of cocoa, White Christmas on the television. He stares at the little voicemail notification and sighs to himself, hitting it.

“Hey, Harry. Um, it’s me. I’m not sure when you’ll listen to this, if at all, but I’d really like to talk to you. There’s a lot we should discuss, um. Not over the phone, obviously. But uh. If you listen to this, could you call me back? I’d uh, I’d really like that, Harry.”

Harry turns his phone off and throws it on the other side of the room. It lands with a thud on the carpet, right beneath the tree. He blinks and tries not to feel anything because Niall sounded genuine, sounded like he’s hurt and that’s not—Harry sets his cocoa down on the table and curls around one of his pillows, watching the romance on his screen.

>>>>

Niall calls every day, sometimes twice a day after that. Harry doesn’t answer any of them, he’s not sure if he can, if he knows what he wants to say. But he listens to them, all of them, with his phone clenched tightly in his hand and his eyes closed. Some of the voicemails are long, begging Harry to pick up the next time and just to talk to him, to listen to what he has to say. Others are random, telling Harry about funny things that happened in his day or stuff that happened at work.

Niall calls him through Christmas, telling him about his brother and his nephew and his parents, about his grandma’s butterscotch fudge and how he nearly pulled the Christmas tree down on him after a night out with his friends that he hasn’t seen in a while. He tells Harry how much he misses him; how much he misses their friendship. He calls him at midnight on Christmas, says he wanted to be the first to wish him a Merry Christmas.

Harry doesn’t answer and his patience is running thin because he wants to, he does, but he can’t. He misses Niall as well, misses everything that they had together, but the night they had sex meant more to him than nothing, because it ended up meaning everything. He understands Liam’s reaction now, because they are perfect for each other, in every way. But Harry’s not going to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with him, who runs out on him the next morning with a bullshit excuse of needing to grab some papers.

His phone rings in his hand and he stares at Niall’s picture before taking a deep breath, doing something he hasn’t done in a long time, hitting accept.

“Hi, Niall.”

“Harry,” Niall shouts. He hears a bang in the background followed by Niall cursing. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t think you would answer. You answered.”

“Yeah, well,” Harry says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “So um, what do you want?”

Niall sighs and says, “I want to say that I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to say that, actually. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Harry says, nodding. He bites down on his lip and closes his eyes tightly, breathing out. He wants to say it’s okay, that he forgives him, that it doesn’t matter. But it does and he can’t say that. He can’t say that. “Okay.”

“Okay. So um, listen. I was thinking, are you going to Liam and Louis’ New Year’s party? It’s just around the corner, in a couple days, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” Niall asks. “We said last year that we’d be each other’s dates if we didn’t have one, and I don’t have a date. So you know, I’d like for you to be my date.”

“Niall,” Harry starts, taking a deep breath. “I don't think that’s possible.”

“Why not? Do you have a date?”

“No, I don’t have a date, but I’m not your consolation prize,” he says and then he hangs up before he can do something stupid like forgive Niall. Before he does something like swallowing his pride and giving in to the other boy. But he can’t because it’s true, Niall only wants him when he has no one else, not because he’s the best option out there.

Niall doesn’t call back after that, not like Harry expected him to.

>>>>

Louis and Liam’s New Year’s party is not nearly as extravagant as their wedding reception, but it’s close enough. They’re having it in some fancy building that Harry has never heard of, another banquet hall with spacious floors and tall ceilings. There’s a long line of food along the back wall, a bar with an ever supplying amount of alcohol, and a DJ that plays some of the most popular songs of the year, along with a few older ones that leave everyone screaming.

Harry watches as the people around him have a blast, as they bounce around the room and dance with each other, smiles on all their faces. He’s to imitate their happiness with a boy from Liam’s work, another firefighter with broad shoulders and a dimply grin. Harry doesn’t even bother to remember his name, because it’s a pity date from a guy that he knows he’ll never see again.

After several dances, Harry excuses himself and goes off to find Liam. He’s tired of pretending to care about tonight. He hates this party and he wants to go home. No, that’s not true. The party is great. It would be even better if he weren’t feeling so down on himself.

“Liam, I’m bored,” Harry says, pressing himself between Liam and Louis so that they can’t kiss each other but they’re forced to pay attention to him. “Make me feel better.”

“What happened to Greg?I thought you two were having a good time?” Liam asks, frowning as he looks around the room.

“He was boring. I don’t know. No, he was fine,” Harry admits, groaning as he drops his head on Liam’s shoulder. “I’m the problem. I don’t want to dance with Greg.”

“Okay, then don’t dance with him,” Louis says from behind him and Harry pouts, rubbing his nose into Liam’s neck. “You’re not going to stand over here and whine all night.”

“Louis,” Liam whispers and Harry can almost hear the silent conversation that they’re having over his head. “Harry, he’s right, though. You can’t whine. What do you want to do? What’ll cheer you up?”

“I want to go home.”

“No, you can’t go home. This is our first party that we’ve thrown as a married couple; you can’t just leave. Please don’t leave,” Liam begs, forcing Harry’s head out of his neck so that he can see his big brown, sad eyes. “We’ll figure out something for you. Is there another guy here that you might want to dance with? Want to dance with me? I can dance with you.”

“For a few songs,” Louis says. Liam turns to glare at him and he shrugs. “What? It’s almost midnight.”

“No, don’t let it be. I don’t have anyone to kiss.”

“Greg’s a really nice guy.”

“And he’s good looking,” Louis adds.

Harry sighs and shakes his head. He appreciates what they’re trying to do but it’s just not there. Harry’s not attracted to Greg. He doesn’t want his midnight kiss to be with someone that doesn’t care about him, that he’s never going to see again. He’s had enough with men leaving him.

“I think I’m going to head home,” he says and Liam frowns, holding onto his arm tightly. “No, I’ll be fine, really. I’m just not feeling it tonight and I don’t want to watch as this whole room starts kissing while I’m standing alone at the bar.”

Liam’s frown deepens but he nods, pulling Harry in for a hug. He holds onto him tightly and doesn’t let go until Harry tells him that he can’t breathe. “Call me when you get home, okay? Let me know that you’re okay.”

“Promise,” Harry says, squeezing Liam’s hand quickly. He waves to Louis and then starts pushing his way through the crowd. His coat is on the other side of the room, tucked under one of the tables so that no one would steal it. It’s not that he thinks they would, but he knows how hard it is to figure out whose coat is whose when you’re drunk and they all look the same.

Halfway across the room a hand grabs him and spins him around.

“Niall, what are you doing here?” Harry asks, staring at him with wide eyes. Louis and Liam both told him that Niall wasn’t coming, that he cancelled last minute and said he had other plans.

“I’ve been thinking a lot, in between work and begging you to talk to me over voicemail. And um, okay. Shit,” Niall mutters, clutching at his ribcage. “I ran here. Oh god, I’m out of shape.”

“Is that what you were thinking about?”

“No. No, god no. Um, so I’ve thought about this a lot. More than any person has ever thought about anything, and I love you,” Niall says, face pinched as he waits for Harry’s reaction. Harry merely blinks at him, gently shrugging his arm out of Niall’s grasp.

“What are you talking about?” Harry asks, voice low. Someone bumps into him and forces him closer to Niall, so close that their shoes are touching. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you,” Niall says. “I love you.”

“You’re wrong,” Harry says, frowning as he shakes his head. This isn’t a time to joke about something like that. “You think that you love me because you want me to forgive you, because I made the mistake of telling you what that night meant to me, but you’re wrong. You don’t love me.”

“Bullshit I don’t. I wouldn’t tell you that if I didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t.”

“Harry, I’m telling you that I do.”

“And I’m telling you that you don’t. You’re lonely and you’re bored,” Harry says, breathing out harshly. “That’s all it is, you don’t love me, so don’t say that you do.”

Niall glares at him and then dives forward, cupping Harry’s cheeks in his hands so that he can kiss him. Harry puts his hands on Niall’s shoulders, ready to push him off, but the other boy pulls off on his own, hands remaining on Harry’s cheeks.

“I love how grumpy you get when you wake up in the morning and your toes are cold. I love that you’re always cold, even when it’s hot outside. I love that you’re not afraid to wear anything you want, because you really don’t care what anybody thinks. I love how healthy you try to be, even though we both know that you’ve got a little bit of sweet tooth,” Niall says, breathing out. “I love that you wear your hair long, even thought everybody tells you to cut it. I love how you make me laugh with everything you say, and the looks you give me when I do laugh. And I love how clumsy you are, how a straight line is next to fucking impossible for you.

“I love that you’re the last person I want to talk to before I go to sleep. And how my apartment smells like those stupid candles you bought me every time you leave.” Niall pauses to wet his lips, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “I love you, Harry. And it’s not because I’m lonely or bored, or whatever other bullshit you’re thinking in that head of yours. I came here to tell you this because when you realize that you want to spend the rest of your life with someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”

Harry stares at Niall, blinking away the wetness in his eyes. He’s vaguely aware of the people around them screaming out the countdown to midnight, the steady thrum of the counting in his ears like the static of an old, broken television. Because Niall’s laid his heart out on the table for Harry, offered him more than he’s ever offered anyone else before and it’s almost like the world has stopped spinning.

“I hate you,” Harry mutters, just as everyone shouts ‘one’. But he pulls Niall in anyway, kissing him. It’s not because it’s midnight and because that’s what you’re supposed to do at the start of a New Year, but because if there’s one thing that Harry wants to do for the rest of his life, it’s kiss Niall.

And it’s like Niall said, when you love someone, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible, so Harry kisses him and holds onto him tightly, hoping that he’ll never have to let him go.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! You can find me on [tumblr](http://zaynlilo.tumblr.com), along with a [rebloggable post](http://zaynlilo.tumblr.com/post/133050884697/how-to-make-two-lovers-of-friends-the-first-time) for the fic!


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